Meet my daughter, AmyJane
by Fost
Summary: P&P AU - What if there was a scandal in the Bennet family prior to Darcy meeting Elizabeth, could he overcome his pride? What if Elizabeth saw him as another immoral gentleman, could she overcome her prejudice?
1. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 1

**WARNING This story contains a number of adult themes and has an alcohol assisted seduction in Part 1: Chapter 6. **

**Please do not read this story if that is in any way unsettling for you, or at very minimum, read down to the warning in the Chapter and then skip straight to Chapter 7, which starts at the morning afterwards.  
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><p><strong>Authors Note: <strong>There are many P&P stories, by any number of authors, that have made me laugh, cry, or just yell at Elizabeth, Darcy or both - the sum total of these are what inspired me to have a go myself. However, I feel I've been a bit remiss in not mentioning one specific Fan Fiction that directly inspired the plot of this story - so I've decided to correct this.

So to **Beth AM** and your published work _**Goodly Creatures **_as a paperback or Kindle book - go look it up - **I strongly recommend buying it **- (but many will remember it as as _"Brave New World of Toil and Trouble"_ on DWG - that is how I read it a number of years ago) my heartfelt thanks for your idea. I was inspired it, then took her initial idea and put my own spin on it, this story would not exist without her wonderful story first. Please note: There is a warning on her fiction for a reason, as is mine. (Additional note for those that seem overly picky about copyright issues - BethAM has given her explicit permission for me to publish this story that was inspired by hers - if at any stage she withdraws this permission, I will be taking it down.)

To all the other authors, in reality too many to mention, you've showed me the highest quality of writing can be produced by an 'amateur' from the shear joy of doing it - I continue to enjoy reading your work, even as I write my own. Thank you.

And in many ways, to the readers, in particular those that leave reviews - knowing that I've got people wanting to read the next chapter certainly spurs me on.

**Thank you.**

****Stephen****

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><p><strong>FLAG: Fanfiction Book Maker<br>**

If you would prefer to read my story in an ebook format, which you might find easier to read, or allow you to read it offline, use the online site I use:

**flagfic . com**

FLAG is an online tool for downloading fanfiction in an ebook form. It will fetch stories from any of a number of popular fanfiction websites (including this one), compile the story into a file suitable for reading on an ebook reader, and allow you to download this file.****  
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**Part 1, The Ingénue: Chapter 1  
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**1806 Longbourn, Hertfordshire. Estate of Thomas Bennet**

"Great news Mrs Bennet, I have received a positive reply from your brother, Mr Gardiner, so will be leaving soon."

Silence and stares of incomprehension met Mr Bennet's opening gambit. His aim to disrupt the usual lively discussion around the morning table achieved.

Mrs Bennet recovered fastest. "I am to be an aunt again!" a happy Mrs Bennet replied, "I wonder when she's due..."

"Why did you write to Uncle, papa?" interrupted Elizabeth, realising that Mr Bennet must have initiated the correspondence to get a reply.

"I asked him to engage an Attorney recommended by your Uncle Phillips, to see what can be done about the entail". Mr. Bennet's property was an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of male heirs, on a distant relation.

"Oh, how wonderful if it was ended, as I am sure Mr Collins will turn us all out of the house as soon as you are gone. Why your father could, in good conscience, entail away an estate from your own daughters, I cannot understand; and to your odious cousin, Mr. Collins! Why should _he_ have it more than our girls? If he can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully his own, he must surely be completely unfeeling. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me!"

Mrs. Bennet often railed against the injustice of the entail, and her views were always articulated with a great deal of passion and sentiment. Thankfully, Mr. Bennet's follow up to his opening sally, was enough to stop her increasingly shrill comments.

"Ending it is the idea, so I will have to go to London in three weeks time, maybe for two or three months".

"What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"You must take us to London with you, Jane can have a season, and I suppose Elizabeth as well."

"Must I?"

"Of course you must, how else will they meet eligible gentlemen, there are precious few here. Sir Lucas and his wife went with Charlotte last season."

"And see how well that turned out."

"Charlotte is a dear, but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality."

Mr Bennet had resolved to avoid taking Mrs Bennet to London, wanting to avoid the raptures, histrionics and constant prattling about all manner of ladies finery. He had no reservations about his two daughter's accompanying him, and was sure they would rather staying with the Gardeners as a holiday, as they had done before, rather than partake of the season with their mother.

"But how will that help them, I have arranged to stay with the Gardener's, and they certainly do not have room for all of us."

"But we will not need to stay with my brother. You will engage a house for all of us."

"How do you think I can afford such a cost?"

"Well I know how to practice economy, and I have some of my portion still available, so even if you do not wish to afford it, I can."

Mr Bennet, being thwarted at his first attempt to dissuade Mrs Bennet from her course of action, switched tactics. ""Even if we did, a London season is not the place for girls as young as ours, there are too many dangers, they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but I suppose Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters."

"Mr. Bennet, how _can_ you abuse your own daughters in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves." He said as he got up and moved from the table.

"They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last fifteen years at least." This statement was punctuated with the sound of the door closing firmly behind him.

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><p>His resolve was sorely tested first by Mrs Bennet's continual sniping and wailing, but he was ultimately unmoved by her. The girls, other than Jane, joined their mother to trying to persuade him, seeing the endless possibilities for adventure and socialisation. Given Mr Bennet's fears for their safety, this was generally counterproductive.<p>

He retreated into his library, avoiding his family except at meal times, and sometime not even then. For the first time, Elizabeth found herself unwelcome in what she had considered to be as much her space as her father's. After two weeks he was still adamantly against the girls having a season, even at the sight of Elizabeth's obvious disappointment at his continued rejection of the scheme.

Shortly before the original departure date when Jane, who had stayed out of the discussions, as was her way, in a quiet moment knocked on his door and asked to speak to him.

"What is it child?" He said, looking up from his desk.

Jane approached tentatively, eyes glistening.

"Please Papa, would you please consider Mama's suggestion. I would like the chance to meet someone."

"Someone nice".

This request, from his most selfless daughter, was the first time Mr Bennet resolve wavered. While still trying to compose a reply that would let Jane down gently, she added;

"Maybe if it was just Mama, Elizabeth and I? I have spoken with Aunt Phillips and Lady Lucas. Aunt Phillips is happy to have Mary, and ... and Lady Lucas says she is willing have Kitty and Lydia. I will ensure that Mama spends the entire time out with us, or at least me, so you will get as much peace as you need to concentrate on overturning the entail, for all our sakes."

His intended answer of no died unspoken.

His silence un-nerved her. "Please Papa".

She looked almost in tears,

"Please..."

Mr Bennet was caught, Jane often pleaded with him on behalf her sisters, but not since she was a small child had she begged for something for herself.

Mr Bennet stood and came round the desk to embrace his daughter.

"Yes, yes, we... that is your mother, Lizzy and you will go to London"

"Oh, thank you", Jane said into his chest.

Mr Bennet kissed her lightly on the top of her head. "There, there dear, go inform your mother we will be leaving as soon as I can arrange a house." Eyes glistening, although this time with happiness, Jane could only nod her head as she was released. With a final shy smile to her father Jane shakily walked out. Mr Bennet followed as far as the door and listened. Within a minute Mrs Bennet's loud exclamations of joy echoed through the house. As the good news spread and the noise level slowly climbed, Mr Bennet closed the door on the commotion and returned to his desk.

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><p>Over the next few weeks each member of the household carried on as usual for them:<p>

Mr Bennet, an odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice. He enjoyed the many opportunities for sarcastic comments, usually at his wife's expense, that the disruption his change of decision had caused. His only actual positive action was to write to his brother-in-law to engage a suitable house, leaving the entire thing to his discretion. This lackadaisical attitude to his family's welfare had become his habit. It had started when the complications during the birth of his last child, who was a born another daughter, prevented Mrs Bennet from conceiving again, preventing him having an heir to keep the estate in the family. Initially it was just with his estate, entailed on someone else, but with time this attitude pervaded everything he did. Only in his interactions with Elizabeth, who was treated as almost a de-facto son, did he seem to care.

Mrs Bennet, a woman of mean understanding, little knowledge, and uncertain temper, this was one step towards the fulfilment of the business of her life which was to get her daughters married. That very afternoon she set off to praise, to all and sundry, her husband's good nature and generosity, completely forgetting that only a day ago she had been bemoaning the opposite. Her nervous disposition was not helped by Mr Bennet's sardonic utterances, that often led her to believe he had changed his mind yet again, before Jane or Elizabeth were able to reassure her, their father did not actually mean what he had just said. When it came to the preparation and organisation needed for the trip, she was generally ineffective. However, she was blessed with an extremely competent housekeeper in Mrs Hill, who more or less arranged everything for her.

Jane, the eldest at 17 was a sweet, sensible girl that had almost fully reached womanhood. Acknowledged as the beauty of the family, and indeed the whole neighbourhood, she suffered from a surfeit of attention which, rather than feeding her vanity, made her feel uncomfortable. Her gentle and caring nature and inability to think bad of people meant she responded politely but passively, hoping her gallants would just leave her alone. With no suitable local suitors Jane hoped that she could find love and romance in London. Knowing her father's reluctance to visit Town, she realised this was most likely her only chance for a London Season. This she kept to herself, so no one had any idea of her desires and the excitement building in her breast as she calmly assisted Hill with the day to day duties her mother, in a state of constant over-excitement, neglected. Jane spent the time helping her mother and sisters pack or as a mediator when the youngest sisters squabbled over clothing, bonnets and ribbons.

Elizabeth, the next eldest at 15, was a lively, intelligent girl, still growing into womanhood. Pretty rather than beautiful, particularly in comparison with Jane, her wit and extraverted nature meant she was popular and had many friends. The child most like her father in intelligence and temperament, Elizabeth was treated almost like a son, so given much greater latitude in what she was allowed to do than usual for a well-bred young lady. Considered a bit of a hoyden, still she never stepped over the line into impropriety. Elizabeth could always pick when her father was teasing his wife, so the role of blunting his sarcastic comments most often fell to her. When not needed to deal with her mother, she spent her time while assisting with preparations excitedly thinking about all the various attractions in London she had read about that she intended to see.

Mary, at 13, was neither particularly pretty, intelligent nor lively and was often overlooked. She had recently set herself the goal to learn to play the pianoforte, so she would have at least something to recommend her. As Mrs Phillips was coming to Longbourn to mind the place while the Bennet's were in London, she did not have to do anything. While she did venture to occasionally be useful to Jane and Elizabeth, she used her piano practice to avoid assisting, or even being with, her two younger sisters.

Lydia and Kitty, 10 and 11 respectively, were still young girls. Although the youngest, Lydia was the obvious leader, and where Lydia went, Kitty followed. Lydia was the daughter closest in nature to Mrs Bennet, and was expected to grow into the beauty her mother had once been. Spoilt and childish, she used her mother preference over her sisters as a weapon, most often at Kitty or Mary's expense. Kitty, though older, was shorter than Lydia, and was often assumed to be the younger, and in many ways lived up to that expectation. Both were equally excitable as their mother, and even though they were only going to the Lucas's in the nearby town of Meryton, they caused the greatest amount of work, constantly changing what they would pack and arguing over clothes, "borrowing" their sister's items unasked and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**As with any author I love to read your reviews.**

**To help me improve my writing, could you consider answering the following if you post a review :**  
><strong> - What parts did you most enjoy?<strong>  
><strong> - Were there any parts you didn't like, or think out of place?<strong>  
><strong> - Were there any parts you thought "what was that about"?<strong>  
><strong> - Do the various characters seem to be as you imagine them to be from P&amp;P?<strong>

** Plus one to answer now:**  
><strong> - There is a young unmarried mother in this story - could you have guess at who it will be?<strong>


	2. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 2

**/ Insert usual fanfic disclaimer here /**

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**Part 1 - Chapter 2**

When Jane and Elizabeth were finally able to retire the night before their departure to London, they prepared for bed in Jane's room, as usual.

"I am glad that we are finally going", said Elizabeth with a heartfelt sigh, plating her hair for bed. "It seems like I have been packing forever".

"Well, it's a good thing that Lydia and Kitty are not going with us, they've been back three times today to get essential items they forgot to pack." Jane replied, turning to have Elizabeth button up the back of her nightdress.

As Elizabeth started with the buttons, she said, more amused than anything "Lydia was so out of sorts when she realised that I had packed my straw bonnet, you know the one with lemon ribbons, and the baggage cart had already left. She has worn it so often I suppose she thought it was hers".

"I hope that she learns to ask permission more often as she gets older, but you must agree she did look very well in it".

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, Jane, does she ever ask?"

"Well, she is still young, she will improve in time".

"Jane, you have an excuse for everyone. Anyway, enough about Lydia. Jane, are you excited about London? I know I am."

"I am too. I hope to finally get to truly enjoy an assembly."

"You don't enjoy them?" Elizabeth asked, quite puzzled. "But I thought..."

Jane interrupted, "It's not that I don't enjoy them, it just... you see how it is... all the attention."

"Yes I do, in fact I count on it, how I am expected at 15 to be asked to dance if I did not have the advantage of all your cast-off's".

Jane's eyes widened, "I do not cast-them off!"

"Yes, you are all that is good and kind, but you must own that many of my dances come from you having too many admirers wanting a dance and not enough dances to bestow, thus the most persistent ask me instead." Elizabeth carried on, "Remember Mrs Long's unpleasant nephew David? I must have danced with him at every assembly, but it was you that had him captivated".

"He was not unpleasant, just very attentive".

"Oh Jane, he was horrid. It was not just the spots, do remember he tried to ask you for every free dance and then if not your partner, glared at everyone else dancing with you. I, for one, was glad when he went back to Oxford."

"He was at an awkward age for young men"

"I think men are awkward at any age. Remember the widower, Mr Hunt, who was just wanting a mother for his young children, I am sure you must have been glad when Papa turned him down."

"He asked for my hand and Papa refused?"

"Did you not know, he came to see Papa the day after the Easter assembly for permission to court you. Papa was most vexed to be approached him. Put Papa in a right poor mood. I had to suffer him at his most vicious on the chess board. I don't think I won a game for a whole week."

"He was not that bad, and ... and I liked his children."

"Jane..." said an exasperated Elizabeth, "You do not seem to think ill of anyone. What about John Prescott."

"He was very attentive, but polite and well mannered".

"Mr Talbot"

"Had a large estate and offered to keep me very well." The subtle smile on Jane's lip meant it was obvious she was enjoying the game, also.

"George Lucas"

"He is younger than you, you cannot fault a boy".

I will give you that." Elizabeth paused. Then her eyes lit up, "Reverend Braithwaite!"

"He was deeply caring."

"Yes, but only about the heathen in India."

"It shows a depth of feeling and generosity for those less fortunate than ourselves."

"Oh, I suppose", Elizabeth bit her lower lip, deep in thought.

"Mr Falmouth..." Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes.

At the reminder of the most ludicrous of Jane's suitors, both burst out laughing.

After a while, Jane composed herself and turned to Elizabeth, quite serious now "Do you think I will find someone in London?"

"Of course you will, you have no end of them here."

"No, I mean not like that, you know, to find love... romance."

"Yes". Elizabeth looked hard at Jane. "Why, are you thinking about marrying?

"No ... yes ... no ... maybe", Jane looked down, "Maybe not marriage right now but definitely before long. A little romance would be nice, especially if he was sensible, good-humoured and lively."

"And handsome," added Elizabeth, "which a young man ought to be, if he possibly can, and let's not forget wealthy, to ensure he can afford having me staying with you indefinitely."

"Lizzie, do you not want to marry?

"I believe only the deepest love will induce me to enter the marriage state. So I am most likely, with so little to recommend me, to become a favourite aunt to all your children and teach them to climb trees, take long walks and play the pianoforte extremely ill."

Jane swatted Elizabeth for her impertinence, and still smiling, pushed Elizabeth out of her room.

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><p>The next morning the hired coach and four left only a little late, as expected Mrs Bennet had last minute nerves and had to double check her instructions to the Phillips's. Mr Bennet had planned for this and had told her they were leaving a good half an hour before he had asked the coach to arrive.<p>

The road to London was in reasonable condition as the weather had been fairly dry for late spring, so they made good progress. The party started happily, chatting amicably, but a comment by Elizabeth about her visiting Vauxhall Gardens caused a sharp rebuke from Mrs Bennet about the proper behaviour for a young lady. This put Elizabeth out of sorts. Without Elizabeth's contribution, the conversation turned to fashion, which displeased Mr Bennet. He then copied Elizabeth in morosely staring out the window. When Mrs Bennet's mind turn from fashion to getting Jane married or at least betrothed while in London, even Jane found little to contribute. When Mrs Bennet realised she was carrying the whole conversation herself, she took umbrage and also fell silent.

The strained atmosphere carried on until both parents fell asleep. At this point Jane and Elizabeth were able to converse quietly about the upcoming time in Town. Jane confided that she was worried that her mother would push her into accepting her first offer, given Mrs Bennet married at 17. Elizabeth promised to assist in thwarting Mama's plans if she could, but told Jane that she had plenty of practice in holding off unwanted suitors herself, so she should have no problem on that score. Elizabeth told Jane about all the attractions of London that she intended to go to. When she mentioned a visit to Vauxhall Gardens again, Jane reminded Elizabeth of her mother's prohibition. When Elizabeth replied that she would go anyway, Jane was shocked. Elizabeth laughed, saying it will only be a problem if mother finds out.

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><p>After a long day of travelling, the Bennets arrived in London. Mr Gardener met them at the rented house. The recently build townhouse everything the Bennets had hoped for. The only complaint Mrs Bennet could give was that it was not in a truly fashionable part of town. As the baggage had left the day before, it had already arrived, so they were able to change before heading to the Gardener's for an evening meal. After the meal, the Gardeners surprised Jane and Elizabeth with an invite to the opening night of a new production of Mozart' opera <em>The Magic Flute<em> at the Royal Opera House in Covent Gardens. This was in less than a week. While the invitations were extended to Mr and Mrs Bennet, the Gardeners knew that they would likely decline, which they subsequently did.

The next few days were spent in frantic activity, Mrs Bennet took the girls to all the best warehouses to select the fabrics, lace and ribbons needed to complete a fashionable wardrobe ready for the London social season. While Mrs Bennet was in her element, Jane and Elizabeth found it exhausting, due to the constant need to moderate their mother's purchases. Both liked simple, clean lines and classical colours and patterns, a far cry from Mrs Bennet's taste which was often flamboyant and, at time, quite ostentatious. Thankfully, the girls had a very capable ally in Mrs Gardener, who was able to make many changes to fabrics and designs to be more in keeping with the girl's tastes. Mrs Gardener was even able to tone down Mrs Bennet's new dresses, ostensibly to avoid her overshadowing her own daughters. Whatever the excuse, it worked.

They were introduced to Mrs Gardener's own modiste, who quickly picked up on the girl's desires for cut and style and, through sly compliments and misdirection, Mrs Bennet almost ceased to have any input into the girls new clothing. She was even able to promise the first of the dresses before they were to go to the Opera in only a few days time. Jane and Elizabeth were overjoyed, they had noticed how drab and out of date their formal evening dresses, that they wore with such pride at the Meryton assemblies were, in compared to the fashions around them.

The first week passed quickly. Of Mr Bennet, they saw little. He spent most of the time in his study, when he was not visiting the attorney, working on the case. Elizabeth was able to spend a little time with him, but only when she was not busy with her mother. Mr Bennet discussed the court case with her, something Elizabeth found fascinating, even if she found the intricacies of the Chancellor's Court baffling. Informed of this, Mr Bennet laughed, then replied that he found it equally baffling, so his explanation to her was probably more confusing than helpful.

The morning of their first London outing their first dresses arrived. Jane's new gown, a ravishing concoction in robin-egg blue jacquard silk with silver thread embroidery was extremely flattering to her pleasing figure and enhanced her natural beauty. Elizabeth's classical sage-green lustring silk gown with a bodice embroidered in playful curlicues of copper thread made her appear several years older. Both girls exclaimed how well the other looked, and Mrs Bennet was in raptures, declaring that, her designs of course, were perfect.

After an early dinner, they dressed and put up their hair while waiting for the Gardeners. Their abigail was putting the finishing touches to Elizabeth's hair when the sisters heard them arrive. Impatient to show off, Elizabeth tried to get up, but Jane retested her hand firmly on Elizabeth's shoulder, forcing her to stay until the final ribbons had been wound through her hair.

Now ready, they came down the stairs together, arm in arm, to the stunned looks of admiration from everyone assembled at its base. After a few moments, the elders were able to speak, offering the most fulsome of compliments. Even Mr Bennet forwent his usual sarcasm for comments that were entirely complimentary. He looked every inch the proud father. Knowing they had to leave to get to the theatre soon, Mr Gardener interrupted the praises of the parents and ushered the blushing sisters to out the carriage. Then, he and Mrs Gardener climbed in, their departure taking place to the sound of Mrs Bennet's non-stop raptures.

Outside the theatre was a mad tangle of town carriages, curricles, phaetons and hansom cabs. It took nearly as long to get from entering Bow Street to stopping outside the theatre than it had getting to Bow Street in the first place. The delay played havoc on the Misses Bennet's nerves. Elizabeth, in particular, ruined her lace handkerchief and had to leave it in the carriage.

The Royal Opera House, both inside and out, was beyond anything either young lady had seen or experienced in London before. It was not just the rich, flamboyant architecture but the equally rich and flamboyant attendees. Looking around in amazement, both girls realised how much wealth and fashion was on display. Even dressed in the most elaborate gowns they had ever owned, they felt like country bumpkins in comparison. After giving the Misses Bennet time to calm and become accustomed to the occasion, the Garderners gathered them up and escorted them to their box.

Making the introductions to Mr and Mrs Carmichael, who they were sharing the box, Mr Gardener, let Jane and Elizabeth to the chairs at the front of the box, while the older couples paired up in the seats at the back. The men had done business together for many years and it was to no one's surprise they started the latest political situation on the continent, and how that was affecting trade. Both the married ladies discussion centred on their families, although the Carmichael's eldest three were older, her younger two were about the same age as Mrs Gardener's eldest two.

Jane and Elizabeth did not feel snubbed by the others, they were too occupied looking at the activity around them. Even before the opera had started there was a play in its own right being performed in front of them. They could look down on the commotion below; the young bloods, the dandies, commoners and ladybirds all vying to places in the stalls. Looking up and around they saw members of the ton, some in sombre formal attire, others dressed in finery that must have cost more than the Bennets spent on clothes in a whole year, and a few were in the most outlandish costumes.

Elizabeth was at the edge of her seat, leaning on the parapet. Constantly looking this way and that, trying to see everywhere at once. In particular, she liked to imagine the relationship between the people she saw in each box; were they couples courting, already married, maybe just siblings? Those two were quite obviously in love, that couple must have had a fight, and – rather shocking – was that a Lord and his mistress! Elizabeth thought it must not be his wife, as she could not imagine a well bought up lady wearing a gown that revealing. Jane sat much more demurely, upright, just absorbing the atmosphere, but happily looked when Elizabeth directed her to one box or the other.

Neither had been sated when the lights were lowered and the performance started. Jane and Elizabeth were transfixed and stayed as they were before the opera started. This was unlike anything performed by the various groups of travelling players that visited Meryton periodically. Mr and Mrs Gardener shared a secret smile at the behaviour of their nieces, before concentrating on the opera before them.

During the intermission, Mrs Gardener recommended that her nieces stay in the box as the corridor outside became a terrible crush. She did send Mr Gardener out to get drinks and he returned with refreshing lemonade for everyone. A few acquaintances called in and were introduced, but soon Act Two commenced, and everyone's focus was on the stage before them.

Jane and Elizabeth were carried away by the drama, the music and the emotions invoked, so at the final curtain they felt quite drained. They were happy to take their Aunt's advice to wait for the first crush of people to move on before attempting to leave themselves. They returned home in a state of euphoria that lasted for several days.


	3. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 3

**Part 1: Ingenue – Chapter 3**

Fitzwilliam Darcy had not been in a sociable mood for the entire two weeks he had already been in London, and tonight was no different. He had only recently finished university and returned to Pemberly to find that his father, George Darcy, was ill. This was somewhat of a shock to the young Mr Darcy as this had not even been hinted at in his father's letters. Darcy was convinced that his father was a lot worse than he was letting on. While he thought he could cope with his father's impending death, Darcy feared for his younger sister, who had already been left motherless at a young age. So for her to become an orphan at 10 or 11 would be massive blow to this reserved girl who doted on her father.

Yet, with his father deteriorating week by week, under his very eyes, he was ordered to London (as the hints and requests from his father had not worked). The stated reason was to attend his cousin Lady Sarah Fitzwilliam's debut. But he was certain that the real reason was to force him to partake in the London Season, or marriage mart, under the auspices of his maternal aunt, the Countess of Matlock. She had planned out a range of social engagements that Darcy could not, without being impolite, avoid. His only consolation, as he saw it, was at least he wasn't asked to dance attendance on Aunt Catherine, who was more than obvious in her desire for him to wed her daughter Anne.

He was counting the days to Lady Sarah's debut ball. Tonight, for what felt like the first time since arriving, Darcy did not have a social engagement. He was looking forward to a quiet night at Matlock House where he was staying, there being no need to open Darcy House just for him, particularly since he knew, if no one else did, he was not staying past Lady Sarah's debut ball.

The rest of the household were out. The Earl was at White's for the evening, something about a bill currently facing fierce opposition in the House of Lords. The Countess, Lady Sarah and Baroness Catherine Chudley (Sarah's elder sister) were attending a musical soiree that Darcy had managed to beg off from. Viscount Sumerville, the elder son and heir was off somewhere with his disreputable companions, George Wickham included, that Darcy had no desire to participate in or even know about. Major Richard Fitzwilliam had been posted to the northeastern coast, where his regiment was on garrison duty to prevent the possibility of an invasion by Bonaparte.

The noise of the library door opening made Darcy look up from the book he was reading, a slight frown evident, given that he had asked not to be disturbed.

"Richard!" Darcy's frown vanished, replaced with a grin. "You have not been expected".

"Greetings Darcy", a happy sounding Major Fitzwilliam entered the room still dress in his regimentals. "Ready for some entertainment tonight?"

"No, nor do I wish to be."

"Don't be like that. Look I'll go up and change into something more suitable and we can discuss it. Get me a brandy, I won't be long."

Shaking his head, Darcy walked over the brandy decanter and poured two glasses to the sound of Richard running up the stairs, at least 3 at a time. True to his word, Darcy had only managed to read a few more pages before Richard returned to the library.

"Well cousin, what causes you to be so taciturn tonight, I thought you would enjoy a night of entertainment".

"Richard, you must know that the Countess has been dragging me hither and yon for the last two weeks. I have had my fill of 'entertainment'. I only managed to get out of tonight's musical soiree because I had to prepare for a meeting with the solicitors on father's behalf tomorrow."

"And I can see you deep in your books preparing! Don't tell me the upright Mr Darcy lied to get out of an engagement."

"I may have exaggerated the amount of preparation needed but, as you can see, I have only just started this book". Darcy held up a copy of Cicero in the original Latin.

"My lord! Why are you reading that?" Richard chuckled. "University is over... Unless you are looking at going back." Major Fitzwilliam looked puzzled, he always assumed Darcy will start taking on various duties for managing the Pemberly estate.

"No, of course not, but people do read for pleasure, you know."

"But not Cicero, and certainly not in the original Latin. Hell, I didn't know we had a copy".

Darcy glared at Richard's use of course language.

"Don't mind me. Too many days serving with England's finest will coarsen the fairest tongue. Anyway, I'm back for at least a week".

Darcy looked heartened by this news, as Richard continued, "After that I cannot say. Rumour has it that the treaty for a Fourth Coalition could be concluded soon. If we can get enough of the countries in Europe to stand with us, we should be able to force Bony to look from gaining our shores towards the countries further east."

"Are you hoping to be posted on the continent?"

"Certainly hope so, can't let the Navy get all the glory, can we. The Navy's great victory at Trafalgar prevented Boney from invading so far, and the boredom of garrison duty is getting to the men."

"It must be getting to you as well."

"I won't deny it. Anyway, I have been granted a furlough, and I mean to enjoy all the fruits of civilisation I can before having to return to the spartan living of a soldier."

"You no more live a spartan lifestyle than I did". The supposed hardship of the soldier's life against the much more real hardship of that of a student was one they had often bantered over. "You will go back to a permanent camp with its officer quarters, and your batman, your almost nightly parties and the local ladies clamouring all over you, and enjoy every minute of it!"

"Fair point, but where in Newcastle am I to get a chance to see Kemble or Miss Pope on stage, or attend an opera without suffering through second and third rate singers?"

Not expecting a reply to his rhetorical question, Richard carried on. "I heard there is a new production of The Magic Flute opening tonight at Covent Gardens. The Italian Countess who is the female lead is supposed to have a very pretty..." Richard paused for effect, "voice."

"Richard, can you not find someone else to join you? Truly, I do not wish to go out tonight."

"I can't find anyone else, I am the only one of my regiment on furlough at the moment, I don't enjoy the dubious pleasures Sumerville indulges in, and I suspect many of my friends are at the musical soiree that you and I both desire greatly to avoid."

Richard could tell Darcy was wavering, so continued. "I tell you what, I will promise to invent, on at least two separate occasions next week, pressing reasons why I need you to accompany me in the evening. Mother will be so pleased to see me home that she will not question them too closely".

Realising that Richard really did want to go, Darcy acquiesced. "Will it be starting soon? I detest arriving in the last minute crush."

"Don't worry Darcy, what you are wearing now is as fine as my best, as you can see, so we can leave this minute and be in plenty of time."

Richard tossed back his brandy, walked out of the library to arrange transport to the Royal Opera House on Bow Street. Darcy looked at his part filled glass and, after a moment's hesitation, also finished it and followed Richard out into the hallway.

The trip there was quick, and as they were unfashionably early, they drove straight up to the entrance. They only had to stop a couple of times to greet acquaintances, as few patrons had arrived as early. Grabbing a couple of glasses from the server who was just setting up the refreshment area, they entered the Matlock's private box and sat down on the seats at the rear.

As the theatre started to fill up, Richard and Darcy caught up. Richard talked about the war, and how he was finding the two years doing nothing since the resumption of hostilities in 1803 in many ways as stressful as actual campaigning. Darcy asked Richard if he had noticed if Darcy Senior appeared ill in any way, but Richard could not say, as he had not visited Pemberly recently. Richard promised to call in on the way back to his regiment, and appraise Darcy of what he found. Darcy's worry for his sister was also discussed, both agreeing to try to ensure that Aunt Catherine would get no involvement in her upbringing. In time the conversation turned to more mundane matters


	4. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 4

**Part 1 – Ingénue – Chapter 4 **

It was still sometime before the performance was to start, when Darcy and Richard's conversation was rudely interrupted by a party of rowdy young men arguing as they burst in the Matlock box.

"Damn it, Tuffy, I still can't see why you didn't give me the first chance to buy that chestnut hunter of yours, I hear from Gussie that you're selling it to Lord Grantham."

"I didn't promise him anything, he offered 400 pounds. I said I'd think about it".

Well I think you've…" Their argument ceased when the saw the box was not empty.

Darcy rose to ask them to leave, but stopped when he saw whom it was.

"Oh, it's you Sumerville"

"Oh, hello Darcy. Thought you were off with Mama to that dreadful soiree she tried to drag me to." Seeing Richard, he added. "Oh, hello Richard."

"Hello brother mine" Richard replied.

Viscount Sumerville moved away from the entrance to allow the others in.

Darcy and George Wickham saw each other at about the same time. Both took a point of ignoring the other. Richard and George acknowledged each other with a terse "George", "Major".

"I suppose you haven't met the others Richard. Major Richard Fitzwilliam, my brother, Lord Fenwick, and Sir Thomas Whitby."

"Major, Darcy", together Darcy and Richard replied, "Lord Fenwick". "Major, Darcy". Again together they replied, "Sir Whitby".

Introductions done, Darcy and Richard pulled their chairs back to where they were not on view but where they could still see the stage.

"Well Tuffy", Sumerville addressed Sir Thomas Whitby by his nickname, continuing the discussion interrupted by the various introductions, "What say you? I'll buy him off you if you're up river tick and need the ready".

"No, I'm not. I just picked up a new hunter off Huxley, Grantham must've found out and wanted to beat the pack to offer if I had decided to sell my chestnut hunter."

The foursome, more interested in the other patrons, pulled their chairs to the front of the box and once seated leant over the parapet, looking down and around pointing at various patrons. Their ribald comments and loud laughter made it difficult for Darcy and Richard's to converse. Between them, they were able to identify many of the demimonde and their escorts in the stalls or boxes, with a running commentary on the different ladies they saw, their beauty, reported 'skills', and how much each were known or guessed to have cost their sponsor.

Darcy found this distasteful, but as the ladies in question had chosen to live that lifestyle, he saw no need to defend their honour. However, their next conversation was different.

George saw them first. "Look at those two." He had pointed out a pair of ladies on the other side of the theatre, in a box on the first tier. The older one was a striking classical beauty, in a very light blue gown with silver thread. The younger of the pair, in a darker green gown with a copper thread embroidered bodice, was pretty rather than beautiful, but striking in her own way. The elder was sitting demurely back on her seat at the front of their box, but younger leant forward over the parapet, apparently unaware of the delightful view she presented to those looking down on her.

"Puck and Aphrodite", quipped Lord Fenwick.

"Aphrodite could be Tatiana, if she had the right hair colour" added Sumerville.

The literary allusions were lost on George. To cover for his ignorance he decided to change the direction of the discussion. "What do you think, sisters or cousins?"

"Cousins" said Sumerville at the same time Tuffy said "Sisters".

Three pairs of eyes turned to Lord Fenwick, who often was the deciding vote between the two of them. George's opinion was not often asked for, for he was the son of a steward, and in general, was not considered even if he did provide it. While George often found being treated as second-class rankled, but hanging on their periphery allowed him access to places that he could not get into on his own, and by association have a level of credit that would have, in other circumstances, ended with him being sent to debtors prison already.

Lord Fenwick raised his opera glasses and critically examined both ladies. "The elder might be a woman, but the younger one is still definitely a girl."

"Come on Fenwick", interjected Sumerville, "We wanted to know their relationship, not their ages".

"But it is relevant, old boy. As a lady changes from a girl to a woman their features change, so sisters, as we see before us, where one has matured the other not, often look less related than they are, but the experienced can tell."

"I told you they were sisters", a smug Tuffy said to Sumerville.

"Sisters or cousins, doesn't matter to me, I'd have either of them", replied Sumerville.

"You're on. I tell you what, if you get to have one I'll sell the chestnut for 300".

"I'll make sure it is noted at Brookers." Lord Fenwick was a stickler for ensuring affairs of honour were properly recorded in their club's betting book and discharged correctly.

At that point Darcy had heard enough. "If you are going to descend to the morals of those in the stalls, maybe you should consider going there."

Summerville turned, anger showing on his face. "Don't be such a prude Darcy, I'm talking about seduction not abduction."

"Regardless, that is no way to talk about ladies". Darcy was not in the mood to concede.

Sumerville continued. "Ladies? What are you talking about? They are definitely middle class. No one with good ton would hire a box in the first tier".

Darcy was getting riled. "It matters not their origins, all ladies deserve respect!"

Sumerville had a way to shut him up. "That's Darcy for you, defender of the whore and fallen woman. How do you stand to be around him Richard, I don't know".

Darcy looked at Richard for support, but Richard just shrugged.

The undeclared truce left both parties to return to their own conversation, Darcy and Sumerville ignoring each other as best they could. They didn't have long before the performance started. While Darcy and Richard were more interested in the various singers' voices, the others were more interested in the range of female form on display in the chorus. As both the voices and the figures were of the highest standard, neither party felt the need to converse, captivated sufficiently by the performance or performers, respectively.

* * *

><p>At the intermission, Darcy got up to stretch. In doing so he noticed a first year student he tutored in his final year on the other side of the theatre. "Over there Richard" he said pointing. "Find the tall lady in the orange gown next to the shorter one in puce".<p>

"What are we looking at? The poor colour choice? That incredible feathered hat?"

"No, no, the gentleman with them. That is Charles Bingley."

"Is he the one you tutored last year?"

"Yes. I now consider him a good friend. I did not realise he was in Town, I shall have to find his direction before the night is out."

"So this night's not been a complete waste of time as you feared."

"No I suppose not, and the performance has been one of the finest I have attended."

"Who are the two ladies with him?"

"I assume they are his two sisters, not that I have met them. From what I remember the taller should be Caroline, the shorter Louisa."

Sumerville, looking for any reason to antagonise Darcy also looked. "Are you talking about the angles and circles over there? Best try for the shorter, the tall one looks sharp enough to cut you while you do the deed."

"That's enough, Sumerville".

"No it isn't Darcy, maybe I should try to have the softer one myself."

"Come on Darcy, let's go." Richard felt that his brother was hoping to get Darcy annoyed enough that he'll do something he would regret.

"Yes, let's go Darcy." Sumerville said in a sarcastic tone. "If you are fast enough you might be able to do the deed before act two starts".

With gritted teeth, Darcy refused to respond to this final insult and left, accompanied by Richard. Not wishing to miss the second act of an exemplary performance, but unable to stay in the Matlock box, Darcy hoped that Bingley wouldn't mind if he and Richard joined him.

As Darcy and Richard worked their way through the crowd to Bingley's box, Viscount Sumerville had a task to do. Gesturing for a server to attend him, he pointed to the box on the first tier. "Find out who's in or at least who's hired that box and there's a half crown in it for you". At the end of the intermission, the server returned, informing Sumerville that a merchant called Mr Gardener had hired the box.

Darcy and Richard made it to Bingley's box with plenty of time for introductions. Mr Hurst, Louisa's fiancé, had been out fetching refreshments, but had returned before they arrived and so was present when the introductions were made. Without understanding how it happened, Darcy ended up sitting at the end of the row, next to Caroline, rather than Charles. But as he had no intention of conversing, rather wanting to focus on the performance, not being next to his friend did not signify. Darcy did wish that Caroline and Louisa attended to the performance rather than spending their time conversing, but as they had their heads together and spoke in whispers, they were not too distracting. Afterwards, Darcy obtained Bingley's direction. The Bingleys were all staying at the Hurst town house, and he promised to visit the day after tomorrow. Darcy had initially mentioned visiting tomorrow, but after remembering his solicitor's appointment had to delay it a day.

What Darcy did not realise was how his actions that night were perceived by Caroline. She had noticed Darcy stand up, as Louisa and her were both observing the gentlemen as avidly as many of the men were watching the ladies. The rare combination, at least in the one person, of an imposing figure, his fine clothes and handsome features made Darcy stand out in a crowd, and Caroline and Louisa were not the only women that noticed once he stepped into view and stretched. Caroline could tell that he and several of the others in his box had noticed them both. She was conceited enough to think the comments must have been complimentary. That soon after noticing her Darcy and his cousin left and made their way directly to her box was definitely a compliment. Her vanity meant she ignored the fact that Darcy knew her brother and assumed he came to see her specifically. As a result, she contrived to ensure he had to sit next to her, if he chose to stay rather than return to his friends, which he did. These actions gave her an unshakeable belief that he was captivated by her, and it was just his scruples in marrying someone with the taint of the shop that prevented him declaring himself. As a result Caroline tried to erase any evidence of this taint, endeavouring to become more 'ton'ish than most of the ton itself.


	5. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 5

**Part 1, Ingénue: Chapter 5**

At the end of the performance, those that remained in the Matlock box headed down to the female chorus' dressing room. As none of them were looking for a new mistress (or in the case of George Wickham, who would have like to have one, but could not afford it), they just passed the time admiring the female form on display, but left the field open for those with more serious intent for amorous negotiations. As the night was still young they carried on to Brookers to continue gaming well into early dawn. Lord Fenwick excused himself at some point to bring back the betting book, the bet properly recorded, which Tuffy and Sumerville signed.

The following day, Viscount Sumerville gave his man, Hatcher, instructions to find a wealthy merchant family called Gardener. He was asked to find out anything he could about them, although of particular interest was a pair of attractive sisters or cousins, who he described. After a few days, Hatcher was able to report he is certain that he had seen the two ladies, as described, visiting the Gardeners, but they appear to live elsewhere. Anticipating his master's next question, Hatcher went on to say he had followed them when they left and made inquiries of the occupants of the house they appeared to return to. Hatcher believes the ladies of interest are Miss Jane and Elizabeth Bennet, daughters of a gentleman with a small estate in Hertfordshire. Sumerville sent Hatcher back to befriend the Bennets' staff, impressing on him the need to find out which social events the Misses Bennet have managed to obtain invites to.

Armed with this knowledge of the sisters' connections, Sumerville argued that the terms of the bet were based on them having merchant class origins and thus needed modification. As a gentleman's daughters, they would be better chaperoned, less likely to be awed by his title, thus more resistant to seduction. In the end new terms of the bet were agreed to; Sumerville had this season to seduce either one of the sisters, but Tuffy had to witness the seduction, and the girl must be willing and conscious. If Sumerville succeeded would get to buy Tuffy's chestnut hunter for only 100 pounds, if not Grantham would be offered one of Sumerville's hunters instead. Lord Fenwick ensured the new terms were recorded and signed.

* * *

><p>Hatcher proved an invaluable source of information on the sisters' social engagements. The Bennets' lack of connections meant they would have to pay for vouchers for subscription assemblies and receive invitations to only the least prestigious of social events. For any of the later, a peer of the realm, like Viscount Sumerville was of too high a consequence to even be sent an invite. Even without an invitation, the hostesses of these events would not ever consider refusing them entry, regardless of how unknown they were to the hosts or the trivial matter of whether they had bought a voucher or not.<p>

Sumerville chose initially to take little notice of them at the first few events he was present at. But soon he appeared to notice Jane's beauty and became far more attentive. The various hostesses of this social circle realised that Jane appeared to have attracted a Viscount, and at times an Earl, a Baronet or both, accompanied him. As a result the number of invites the Bennets received steadily increased, to the point where they had the luxury to decide between several events on many evenings. So caught up in the excitement, neither Mrs Bennet, Jane nor Elizabeth questioned why Jane's most attentive suitor appeared at many of the events they attended, rather than the ones more suitable to his consequence.

To Jane, the Viscount was charming and attentive. To Elizabeth, he was interesting and witty. His friends, Lord Fenwick and Sir Whitby, if they accompanied him, were polite, but much more reserved. Within a fortnight of making making his acquaintance, the Viscount appeared one evening wearing a black armband. When asked whom it was for, they were told an uncle, who lived in Derbyshire, had just died. Jane and Elizabeth offered their sympathies, but wondered why he not in mourning. The Viscount explained he was a distant relative (he justified the lie in that Derbyshire _was_ a distance to travel) and thus he only wore the armband as a sign of respect, rather than being in full mourning.

* * *

><p>After each evening out, Jane and Elizabeth prepared for bed in Jane's room as they had always done, even though Elizabeth had her own room. Their bed-time conversation was usually about the social events they had just attended. Elizabeth dissected the character and dispositions of all the gentlemen that danced attendance on Jane, while Jane found excuses for the actions of her more ridiculous suitors. While their banter was generally light-hearted, it got more serious when the Viscount was mentioned.<p>

Elizabeth was puzzled with Jane's responses, Jane seemed mostly happy with his attention, but Elizabeth could not detect that she was in anyway partial to him. It did not help that Jane would not give a definitive answer to whether she truly liked him or not, regardless of how Elizabeth worded the question to try to get her to be explicit. Jane would say things like; "I think very highly of him" or "that I like him." Hearing this made Elizabeth clench her teeth and bite back words criticising Jane's lack of outward emotion. Her only conclusion was that, regardless of how charming, good-humoured, lively and, let's not forget wealthy and titled the Viscount was, he had not created the spark needed to set Jane's heart aflame. So Elizabeth was happy to interfere with their mother's activities designed to promote the match regardless of Jane's feelings for the gentleman.

Mrs Bennet's opinion was much more obvious, she crowed about Jane's conquest of 'her' Viscount to all the other matrons, and how she expected him to declare himself any day now. She was animated about the advantages of the marriage to all and sundry. Mrs Bennet was convinced her daughter was to be a Countess! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages Jane will have! A house in town! Everything that is charming! And Jane would almost certainly gain vouchers to Almacks, the holy of holies, which would throw her remaining daughters into the path of other titled gentlemen. This exuberant celebration for an event that had not yet occurred was off-putting to those that did not have a long acquaintance with Mrs Bennet, so she found that she was not the centre of a group of like minded matrons to gossip with as she had expected. That she was often ignored, she put down to jealousy on the part of the other mothers whose daughters were not as beautiful or sociable as hers.

Mrs Bennet had never exerted herself very much and was used to both country hours and its more restrained social activity. She found going out almost every evening to be exhausting. As a result she slept most days until at least noon. Jane and Elizabeth continued to wake early with no ill-effect as they were much younger and more resilient. They both enjoyed the absence of their mother, if for different reasons.

Jane, who was not in love with any of her suitors, including the Viscount (as Elizabeth had surmised) appreciated that her morning free from having to listen to her mother's constant stream of advice, often conflicting, about the best way to attract and fix the interest of her mother favourite suitor, while also discouraging the others. It also gave her time to examine her own feelings. While Jane felt positively towards marrying Viscount Sumerville, she was not able to determine whether these feelings were because of her mother's partiality to him, the obvious advantages the marriage would bring to her sisters and herself or as the result of her slowly developing actual romantic feelings for the man himself.

Elizabeth found that her mother was not there to stop her taking a brisk pre-breakfast walk un-chaperoned. The maid Mrs Bennet had assigned as a chaperone when they first came to London dawdled so badly that, until their social life got so full Mrs Bennet started sleeping past noon, Elizabeth preferred to skip her walk than having to be followed everywhere by a maid that seemed to have only one speed – dead slow! On the days Elizabeth took the whole morning to go to a local attraction, she was able to leave prior to her mother waking, and then it was only a matter of making up a reasonable excuse if she arrived back after Mrs Bennet woke. Mr Bennet also bestirred himself to help, confirming the excuse Elizabeth gave for arriving back home later in the afternoon on a couple of occasions when Mrs Bennet particularly questioned Elizabeth about her day.

* * *

><p>After nearly a month of pursuit, Sumerville was becoming frustrated with his lack progress, although he never hinted at it. Jane always reacted differently to his flirting than the ladies he was used to. He could not believe that a girl could be quite that naive, but she misinterpreted all of his comments, full of double entendres – her sister Elizabeth certainly understood what she meant (and blushed appropriately). He was also puzzled at Jane's lack of responses to the gentle 'accidental' caresses. It did not help that Elizabeth had the annoying habit of 'getting in the way' or somehow redirecting things when he tried to manoeuvre Jane to more private locations. As a result, Sumerville had Tuffy or Lord Fenwick try to engage Elizabeth's attention, when they attended.<p>

While Mrs Bennet was a trial to be around, she was also a valuable ally, ensuring that regardless of the event, Jane had at least the supper dance free in case Viscount Sumerville chose to attend that night. Experienced with matchmaking-mamas far more sophisticated and cunning as Mrs Bennet, it was easy to sidestep her obvious and clumsy attempts to have the Viscount 'come up to the mark'. Sumerville always appeared to promise a lot while avoiding making anything definitive.

The few times he chose to drive out with Jane (although never at the most fashionable hour – he always chose to drive at the time gentlemen of the ton took their ladybirds out – not that any of the Bennet ladies ever seemed to notice the difference), as much as Mrs Bennet seem to favour his attention, she never let Jane go without Elizabeth as a chaperone. This made him think that Mrs Bennet may be more cunning than she was. The truth was all the Bennet servants were hired with the house and Mrs Bennet just didn't trust any of them to properly act as a chaperone.

While initially Tuffy and Lord Fenwick found Sumerville having to act friendly to cits and social climbing mushrooms vastly amusing, over time the novelty wore thin. One night, when Tuffy was particularly teasing of Sumerville's slow progress, he asked where in Seven Dials (a notorious London slum) Sumerville was going that night and was he going to make a habit of it all season. This jibe struck home. That night Sumerville was much more overt in his attentions, which set his progress back considerably. Angry with himself for his lack of control, he thought of giving up – there was only so much more of the low company he was prepared to endure, even for a bet and a night (maybe nights) with a beautiful girl. Had it not been for the bet, he would have. But as there was a bet at stake he refused to be beaten so was at his most charming after supper, regaining the ground he thought his earlier impulsive actions had lost, and possibly even made progress – he had caused Jane to blush!

Leaving the ball in a much better mood than when he arrived, he didn't want to encounter Tuffy again that night. Rather than continuing to his usual haunts to relieve his frustration of a chaste evening dancing with Jane, he went home instead. When Hatcher came to help him prepare for bed, Sumerville asked him to see how he was talked about in the Bennets' household and anything else he could find out while doing so. Hatcher said this would be easy, as he had been walking out with the sisters' abigail. Sumerville congratulated Hatcher on acts beyond the call of duty and gave him a bit extra cash to assist in his wooing. Given that the abigail was a pretty young thing in her own right, and her charms were its own reward, Hatcher was only too happy to continue.

* * *

><p>Thinking maybe a period of absence might make Jane less complacent, he returned to his more typical disreputable night activities with his friends for the next few days while waiting to hear from Hatcher. Sooner than Sumerville thought was likely, Hatcher stumbled across some information that might just allow him to win the bet without taking the many weeks his current slow progress had indicated.<p>

Hatcher related the servants had been talking about a very intense and prolonged argument between the Bennet parents regarding Miss Lizzie's behaviour. Apparently she was regularly sneaking out early morning to take un-chaperoned walks or going all day to visit various London attractions. This time she had been caught returning after visiting Astley's Amphitheatre. It appeared that her father knew about the excursion and did nothing to stop it. The gist of Mrs Bennet's complaint was Mr Bennet was treating Lizzie like a son not a daughter, encouraging her hoyden nature, all the mother wanted was to ensure was that she acted like a proper lady like Jane who, by following her mother's advice, was well on the way to being betrothed to a Viscount. Mr Bennet stated he would not have Elizabeth change in any way and poured scorn on Mrs Bennet's matchmaking ability. Since then the parents had been avoiding each other. More puzzlingly, for all of Mr Bennet's defence of his younger daughter during their argument, afterwards he left his daughter to her Mother's care, taking no more interest in what his wife did as he had earlier, and the girl was being restricted as strongly as she had had freedom previously.

Dismissing Hatcher, Sumerville realised that this provided a real opportunity. The younger girl, with her obvious adventurous nature, being suddenly confined could cause her rebel, and likely to respond to offers of excitement. He asked Hatcher get the abigail to extend an invitation to Elizabeth to come with him to a masked ball in three days time and, if possible, wait a reply. The Viscount felt a sense of elation when a positive reply came back.

Three days later, Sumerville sat in a hired town chaise in the alley behind the Bennet's house, hoping that Elizabeth would be able to make it out unnoticed. A breathless Elizabeth, appeared, grinning widely, close to the time he had arrange to meet her. She explained that her mother and sister were out, but she complained of a headache so could stay home, as much as a 'punishment' than any concern her mother had about her illness. At his most charming, he asked Elizabeth to forgive that he was at first attracted to Jane's beauty, but soon found her lively nature and wit far more attractive. He declared most ardently that he had wanted to pay her more attention but found it difficult to shift his attentions as her mother kept pushing Jane at him. Caught up in the excitement of a clandestine meeting and flattered by his attentions, Elizabeth failed to recognise so obvious an illogical justification for his sudden attentions to her.

* * *

><p>The masked ball was everything Elizabeth had anticipated. The Viscount was charming and attentive, and treated her like a desirable adult not an unwanted child. The dancing and talk around her was free and easy, with little or no pretentions between the partygoers. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves more than she had seen in the more formal assemblies and balls she had been to so far in Town. It was obvious that donning a mask was liberating, allowing you the freedom to ignore many of the shackles of polite society. In this spirit, Elizabeth chose champagne instead of the ratafia or orgeat her mother would have ensured she drank. The bubbles tickled her nose, but the overall experience was something she wanted to repeat, so she did.<p>

The champagne, atmosphere and the encouragement of a charming companion led her to act more wantonly that she ever had in the past. Yet actions that bordered on impropriety were encouraged not censured, and Elizabeth felt more like a woman than a girl than she had ever felt before. By the end of the evening she was well on the way to being infatuated with this man who held her hand, caressed and kissed - kissed! – her hand so delightfully. Elizabeth was revelling in what she considered was her overdue introduction to the adult world.

To ensure Elizabeth got home in time, Sumerville ensured they left early. She was reluctant to go, but he consoled her with a few more furtive kisses and a promise to take her to the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens in a few days time. Not wanting to scare Elizabeth away, , he was very restrained on the trip home, restricting himself to whispering any lines of romantic poetry he could remember and holding her hand. He helped her down from the cab, and then with a final kiss to her hand while saying goodbye, he watched her returned to the house, unnoticed.


	6. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 6

**WARNING This chapter contains the alcohol assisted seduction warned of at the start of this story. Please stop reading this story if that is in any way unsettling for you, or at very minimum, read down to the warning in this Chapter and then skip straight to Chapter 7, which is dealing with the aftermath of it.**

**.**

**For anyone rereading this story, comment and ideas from a number of people have led me to rewrite the adult part towards the end of the chapter. I feel that this rewrite deals with the adult material in a more sympathetic way, and reflects the Viscount's motivations better than it had been. Author's note regarding this chapter at the end. **

* * *

><p><strong>Part 1, Ingénue: Chapter 6<strong>

The next day Sumerville explained what he wanted, in detail, to Hatcher, then left him to make all the necessary arrangements. Later that day Sumerville went to meet with Tuffy and Lord Fenwick. He explained that he was escorting Elizabeth Bennet to the fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens, and would be able to conclude the bet that night. They were puzzled that he was taking the younger sister given his attention had been focussed on the elder one, but the terms of the bet meant either girl was acceptable.

He asked that they meet him there with female companions of their own, which they were happy to comply with. He stressed the ladies they bought must be sufficiently genteel not to give Elizabeth the frighteners, and gave a number of particulars that they must have. He warned that if Tuffy decided to queer the pitch by bringing an unsuitable companion, he will consider to have won the bet by default. Tuffy laughed and assured that Sumerville had no worries on that score, as he was equally looking forward to seeing Sumerville and either girl in the act of concluding the bet.

A day later Hatcher confirmed all the arrangements had been met, and that he, on his master's behalf, had the abigail confirm Elizabeth was up for tomorrow night's adventure and received a positive response.

* * *

><p>As with the masked ball, Sumerville was waiting in the alley alongside another hired town chaise. The romantic atmosphere started almost immediately on entering the hired chaise, with Sumerville offering Elizabeth a glass of champagne as soon as he regained his seat after helping her in. Taking his own glass, he raised to hers then urged her to drink it up before the rough cobbles spilled it all. Elizabeth told her companion that the same excuse worked tonight as well, laughing at her mother's lack of understanding.<p>

The champagne had a stronger effect this time, Elizabeth found herself quickly succumbing to a fuzzy euphoric state that left her less inclined for witty repartee and more keen on sensual feelings. Sumerville had reread the love poems of Byron, Donne and Shakespeare in preparation for this night, and used them all too great effect while they made their way through the London night. He did most of the talking, Elizabeth was unusually quiet, but Sumerville did not seem to mind.

Vauxhall Gardens was very different at night than what Elizabeth remembered form passing it a few weeks ago in daylight. It looked like the whole of London had come out to see the fireworks. The main paths and booths were lit by lanterns of every colour. Exclaiming at everything she passed, Elizabeth's lively nature was starting to reassert itself. She would have preferred to take their time wandering through the gardens but Sumerville was suddenly anxious to make their way to the booth he had hired and meet up with his friends. So they quickly skipped past a number of areas that looked fascinating and arrived at the booth rather more quickly than Elizabeth would have preferred.

Lord Fenwick and Sir Thomas and their female companions had arrived earlier. As soon as they entered the booth, Sumerville offered Elizabeth a glass of champagne, provided by a very efficient Hatcher and then took one of his own. Only then did he introduce Elizabeth to the others. Their arrival signalled the start of the dinner service, and Elizabeth was amazed to be eating the wafer thin slices of ham Vauxhall Gardens was famous for. The conversation with the meal flowed as freely as the champagne being drunk, although Hatcher appeared to be personally responsible for her glass alone, as the others had to fill their own.

As dinner progressed, Elizabeth's contributions to the conversation waned. Her intelligence and wit seemed to have dissolved in the champagne she had been drinking. She was experiencing such happy state of fuzzy euphoria that it was delightful to just to sit and listen, or sometimes just watch something of interest occurring outside the booth. Sumerville also took less interest in the others, becoming more attentive to his guest, starting with whispered romantic phrase, through gentle caresses, progressing on to light kisses, then culminating in Elizabeth's first proper kiss, that left her breathless and tingling right to her core.

Elizabeth vague eyes appeared to suddenly focus at recognising the off-colour comments this act invoked. "Never mind their high spirits, dear." He whispered in her ear, "They are just jealous that I have the prettiest lady here". Sumerville turned his head from Elizabeth and glared at the others, before turning back with a sweet smile, that appeared to be for her alone. Elizabeth back smiled at him and then drank some more champagne. In doing so the fuzzy cloud of euphoria returned.

"Come with me darling, and I'll take you to the best position to see the fireworks". Sumerville rose, after a quick kiss, took Elizabeth's hand in his and led her out. With his hand on her back, he ushered her down the steps and into the night.

"Wait here a moment, I forgot your shawl". He returned to the box.

"Everything ready Hatcher?" he whispered to his man stationed at the back.

"Yes, my Lord"

"Make sure there is another glass or two of her champagne at the pavilion"

"Yes my Lord"

Viscount Sumerville returned to Elizabeth, her shawl in hand. "Sorry about that, forgot for a moment that the pavilion would be colder than our box". The Viscount smiled at Elizabeth and led here off to the south. "Here, come with me, I know a romantic path there".

Elizabeth allowed herself to be led into one of the quieter paths, her brain too fuzzy to think much on the impropriety of what they were doing.

After turning off their current path to a quieter one several times, the couple found themselves quite alone. The Viscount took both her hands in his. "You look totally enchanting tonight. I'm glad you were able to come." This was accompanied by tender kisses on her lips and elsewhere, while he murmured pretty compliments. The kisses deepened, his hands left hers, to wrap around her waist drawing her into a close embrace.

Elizabeth was revelling in all the sensations she was experiencing, and didn't say anything. Her usual quick wit seemed to have failed her, and she had no idea what she was supposed to say to him, but her lover did not seem to mind her continued silence. At first Elizabeth didn't know what to do with her hands, but copying him she wrapped them around his neck and drew his head down to hers.

Sumerville started to feel her respond to his seduction. Judging the time to be right, he stopped, inwardly thrilled at the look of disappointment on her face when he did.

"Best carry on", taking her hand in his again he led her to a private pavilion. His men, who had been keeping it unoccupied until that point, seeing them arrive, quietly withdrew.

"Ah, Hatcher, no need for you to be here", Sumerville seated Elizabeth inside the pavilion and then followed his man out.

"Which one are hers", whispered Sumerville.

"The ones on the left of the table."

"Not too many drops?" Sumerville was starting to worry that he had administered a bit too much opium in the champagne she had drunk already.

"No, but enough to keep her compliant for the rest of the night."

"Good. Get Sir Thomas and Lord Fenwick here about 15 minutes after the fireworks finish".

Knowing the fireworks were still a while away, Sumerville continued his gentle seduction, ensuring that Elizabeth sipped her champagne slowly. In time the fireworks started. Elizabeth had seen fireworks before, but for some reason this night they were magical.

* * *

><p><strong>The explicit adult content follows - the alcohol assisted seduction now leads to non-consensual sexual activity<br>**

**To anyone reading: ALWAYS know who you are drinking with, and what's in your drink! Better yet, get/buy your own drinks and have at least one sober person in your party watching out for you and making sure you get safely home. What is about to happen to Elizabeth still happens far too often to people today.  
><strong>

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><p>Soon after the fireworks had finished, without knowing how it happened, Elizabeth found herself partly undressed, and in the process of untying her companion's cravat. Noticing her hesitate, Sumerville pressed her to finish her champagne, doing nothing while she finished that glass. After she finished he continued his seduction, and soon Elizabeth was now partly participating in their activities. Even helping a little, when asked, to remove his shirt. His coat, waistcoat and cravat having already been dispensed with earlier somehow.<p>

Elizabeth's feeling of numbness, the absence of pain, combined with a happy, fuzzy other worldly euphoria was stronger than it had been, and she felt like she was floating. She noticed that she was now lying on blankets spread out behind the seat, but they were silky smooth and downy soft, and even only in her stays and stockings she felt quite warm enough.

The continued kisses and caresses led Elizabeth to drift happily with what was going on, unable to concentrate, but not really wanting to. As her lover's hand moved down and around her body, going where no other hands had gone before, a puzzled Elizabeth looked up at him.

"Shh, darling, this will sting just a moment, then feel wonderful."

He lowered himself on her, and as he had said there was a sharp stab of pain, before it subsided. She was uncomfortable and was being moved oddly. But as she tried to focus on the feeling, her general numbness and confusion meant it all seemed disjointed and incoherent. Elizabeth realised that for some reason her lover had stopped moving which allowed her to clear her head a little. Focussing on the man above her Elizabeth was peeved to notice then that the Viscount Sumerville seemed more interested in his surroundings than her. But then his eyes seemed to focus on something outside the pavilion for a moment and but then was quickly back on her, and the movement and with it her disorientation started again.

Thankfully it did not last long, and soon, with a groan he pulled her close and, at that point she felt a sudden hot wet sensation from within. Elizabeth's fuzzy other worldly euphoria had started to dissipate. She wondered when the wonderful feeling was supposed to start, but it never came, even as the Viscount continued to kiss and caress her while he cleaned her up and then got her back into her clothing. She noticed red on the cloth he had used, which looked like it might have been blood, but she could not account for an injury to herself, so gave it no more thought at the time.

Turning to have her dress buttoned, she noticed a widely grinning Sir Whitby and Lord Fenwick at the entrance of the pavilion. Turning rapidly, face now bright red, she glared at the Viscount. As she thought of what to say, he smiled sweetly, kissed her then said. "Don't worry my dear, they've just arrived, having come looking for me." Another deep kiss and her angry words were left unspoken.

"I must go now, my dear, I've been with too long with you already, if I stay any longer it might damage your reputation. My man, Hatcher will to ensure you get home safely."

Leaving Elizabeth to deal with the buttons on her dress, he left with his companions. Elizabeth wanted to follow, but with a dress only half on was forced to stay. Mortified, she had to get Hatcher finish the buttons she couldn't reach. While standing still as Hatcher buttoned her up dress she overheard a conversation that, at the time she did not understand.

Elizabeth heard Viscount Sumerville's distinct voice say. "Tuffy, you'd have to agree that was a very pleasurable way to buy your hunter for only 100 pounds. If I have the other sister can I get it for free?"

"I cannot argue you did not meet the conditions. Alright, but if you don't I'll add another 100 pounds." That must have been Sir Whitby as Lord Fenwick's voice was much higher pitched, and the Viscount would not have been talking to himself.

"Done" replied Viscount Sumerville.

What else was said as they moved on was lost as Hatcher had finished with her dress and was making a lot of noise tidying up. Elizabeth was left waiting while Hatcher finished in the pavilion, before escorting through the back paths of Vauxhall Gardens to the carriage that took her home.

* * *

><p>Arriving home Elizabeth sneaks back in. She feels unwell, sick enough that her excuse earlier that evening would have been the truth. Undressing, she thinks to herself "Why is it you can take a dress off without unbuttoning it, but can't put it on already buttoned?" Removing her stays, Elizabeth noticed her various intimate parts of her body were bruised and sore. Feeling sticky she washes herself and is mortified to notice the water turn slightly red.<p>

Examining her clothing more closely, Elizabeth is shocked to see spots of blood on her petticoat and also on one stocking! Heart racing, the realisation of what she had just done dawns. Elizabeth paces the room, muttering "What to do. What to do. Think, Elizabeth, think!"

She suddenly stops, a solution had come to her. Taking the offending articles, she puts them and some letter writing paper in the grate and lights it with her candle. Unfortunately, clothing does not burn well, and it takes all her writing paper and a number of the blank pages ripped from her journal before the grate is filled with unidentifiable ash. While the fire burns, Elizabeth examines herself in the mirror. Blushing in mortification, evidence of the evening's activity is clear in the abrasions and light bruises that have just started to appear. She knows she will have to be sick for certain over the next few days. Ashamed at her own body, she quickly dons a nightgown and plaits her hair waiting for the fire to go out.

Once the fire is out, Elizabeth takes her washbowl to the grate then scoops up the hot ash and dumps it into the water. Quietly slipping out the door to her room, Elizabeth looks to see if anyone is up. Once certain the coast is clear, she takes the bowl with its sodden mess of ash and tiptoes down the hall. Reaching the window that overlooks the alleyway alongside the house she opens it as quietly as possible. After waiting for what seems like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, to Elizabeth tips the mess out. Wiping out her bowl with her other stocking, she throws that out the window also. As she leans out the window, revulsion overtakes her. Elizabeth suddenly can do nothing other than repeatedly vomit out the window the burnt evidence had just gone. Praying that no servant comes to investigate, she stays there, head hanging out the window until there is nothing left to throw up.

On shaky legs Elizabeth returns to her room, and hugging her pillow, starts to sob uncontrollably. After what seems like hours, Elizabeth drifts off to a fitful sleep.

**.**

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><p><strong>Author's note: The events of this particular chapter were the basic idea that led to the 'what if' this story is based on. As how this happens has long term effects, it needed to be described. I hope that you find that I have treated the alcohol assisted seduction that lead to non-consensual sexual activity with delicacy and tact. That Elizabeth never objected, or tried to fight off her seducer, does not in any way make it less a violation of her trust than a more violent abduction. <strong>

**This is not intended to be erotic in any way, and I can't see how anyone could read it in that way. It is there specifically to provoke pity for Elizabeth and feel for her betrayal and disgust with the Viscount, who only cared to compete the terms of the bet, as once done he callously walks off, leaving a servant to 'tidy up'. If you feel at all that I have not done this, please Review or PM me with your comment, or better, suggestions for improvement.  
><strong>


	7. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 7

**Part 1 – Ingénue - Chapter 7**

Elizabeth woke the next morning, awakening from a horrible nightmare. It was a struggle to think with how badly her head was pounding. But as she recalled the nightmare, the ash on the hearth, her journal open at some missing pages, the dress still over the chair, abrasions and tenderness, it wasn't a nightmare – it was a reality.

Attempting to get up, Elizabeth felt as physically ill as she felt emotionally distressed. Her body ached, her head was pounding and, even with the curtains still drawn, the little light that filtered through hurt her eyes. Her mouth was dry and her lips cracked, but wetting them resulted in such a horrendous taste, that it was better to resist the desire to do so at all. The tenderness and abrasions was a nagging background note to her physical misery. Elizabeth's physical condition seemed to be an appropriate counterpoint to the mortification and embarrassment, the disgust with herself and the sense of overwhelming guilt she felt.

The upstairs maid wandered in. She was a fussy little thing that talked to herself when she thought she was alone. Expecting Elizabeth to already be up and gone, she was in the middle of a monologue on the difficulties of being in service.

"GET out…" Elizabeth's yell decreased in volume dramatically throughout so it ended in a whisper.

"What Miss?"

"please... get out", this time the order, although entirely whispered, was accompanied by a thrown pillow, so the maid got the idea. Picking up her cleaning equipment with a clatter prompted a hoarsely whispered, "quietly" from the direction of the bed, the maid turned and closed the door behind her.

Lying in bed, trying not to move, was good, but she had to breathe – and her breathing was too loud. Being calm and trying not to think was good, but random memories of the previous evening kept coming to mind, unbidden, and felt as if she was just an observer, experiencing someone else's life. Making a coherent narrative of this proved impossible with her head pounding this much, so she just let it happen without trying to control the process.

After sometime the door opened quietly and Jane popped her head round it. "Still not feeling well?"

"QUiet…" Once again Elizabeth initially forgot to whisper, but certainly ended in one.

"I am so sorry" Jane whispered back, sitting on the chair beside the bed. "Oh dear, you look quite green." Jane rested her hand on Elizabeth's forehead, "At least you do not have a fever. Wait here, I will be back soon".

Elizabeth had not planned to go anywhere. Ever. Staying in bed for the rest of her life seemed a really good idea at the moment. Jane came back with a tray that she put on Elizabeth's dresser. Talking the cup over to her, Jane sat Elizabeth up and got her to drink it.

"Willow bark tea", Jane replied to Elizabeth's unspoken question.

The tea removed the horrible taste from her mouth and started to calm the pounding of her head. When Jane bought over the tray, the sight of breakfast was almost too much and Elizabeth had to turn away. Jane noticed her colour change, "maybe later" and returned the tray to the dresser.

"More tea?"

"No, but I would love a bath."

"Certainly, anything else?"

"No. Thank you Jane. Can you tell mother I will be in bed all day."

"Will do. I am going now, but will be back with the bath." Jane picked up Elizabeth's pillow, fluffed it and tucked it behind her, pulled up the blankets, kissed her gently on the forehead, then taking the breakfast tray, left.

A while later Jane returned with the two footmen carrying the tin bath. As the footmen carried in the large jugs of heated water for the bath Jane fluttered around tidying up. She picked up Elizabeth's nicest morning gown that was lying crumpled on the floor; put away the undergarments draped over the dresser stool, looked for but couldn't find her petticoat or stockings. Picking up Elizabeth's journal, Jane closed it and put it back in the top drawer, but in doing so, noticed that a number of pages at the back had been torn out. Working her way around the room, Jane picked up or straightened things and generally tidied up so the room looked as neat as hers.

She noticed the ash on the hearth and on the grate, and traces of un-burnt paper. Jane thought. _"So that's where the journal pages went_._ I suppose last night did not go as well as a few days ago. She might have fooled Mama, but I could tell she wasn't sick. But Lizzie certainly is sick now – but it wasn't raining and her dress wasn't wet, so what happened? She's obviously not up to talking now, but I hope I will be able to help when she does. Maybe she's fallen in love with someone – Lizzie was so happy after the sneaking out the time before – could he have broken her heart last night?"_ Jane's internal monologue was interrupted as the footmen indicated the bath was full so her attention was needed elsewhere.

"Here, I'll help you undress"

"No thank you, Jane. I will be fine on my own."

Jane was a little disappointed that Elizabeth refused her help as she had hoped the relaxing bath would allow Elizabeth to share what was wrong. But, as it was not to be, Jane walked to the door, and with a final smile said, "I will be back as soon as you call". Jane left to go downstairs and undertook to write to Elizabeth's friends to let them know that she was feeling unwell and would not be up to receiving visitors.

Finally alone again, and feeling like she could stand without dizziness or nausea, Elizabeth rose and got undressed. Sinking gratefully into the bath, Elizabeth washed thoroughly but still felt unclean. It was as if her sin and guilt had stained her, indelibly. Elizabeth stayed in the bath continuing to wash herself until the water was so cold it forced her out. But all the washing in the world would not remove the stain on her soul – she now knew how Lady Macbeth felt.

During the day her physical symptoms slowly eased but her mental state remained fragile. At times she could consider things dispassionately, but other times it was just too much and she sobbed uncontrollably. Jane spent as much time as she was allowed with her dear sister, but there were times, when Lizzie looked most despairing, that she asked Jane to go.

By the end of the day, Elizabeth felt well enough to eat, but only a few pieces of toast and chicken broth. They both had an engagement that night, but Elizabeth said she was too ill and Jane refused to leave her alone that night. This caused an almost argument between Mrs Bennet and Jane (in that the yelling was all done by Mrs Bennet). Even with the door closed, Elizabeth could hear Mrs Bennet, She was quite adamant that Elizabeth would be fine in the morning and Jane had better spend her time trying to fix the Viscount's interest than watching her sister, who would most likely go to sleep soon. Jane remained calm and by not preparing for the evening, Mrs Bennet had to concede defeat.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had always considered her excellent memory to be a blessing, but now it was a curse. Over the next morning the random recollections slowly sorted themselves out to a coherent whole. This, rather than easing her guilt and shame, made it worse. She saw any number of decisions that she would have normally made differently, had she been less angry with her mother, less rebellious and not trying to prove how adult she was. She vowed that from now on she would be good, more like Jane, regardless of her natural inclinations.<p>

While the next few days were a constant battle with depression and self-loathing Elizabeth held on to the fact that he loved her, and should still do so even if she had surrendered her virtue far too easily. As the days passed with no message of love via their abigail, she dwelt on his romantic words for comfort instead. Suddenly Elizabeth recognised one romantic line as from a Shakespearian sonnet and she wondered about the others. As this was something she could focus on, Elizabeth wrote down every romantic line she remembered him saying and decided to find the origins of each, if possible.

The rest of that day was spent in the library, as Elizabeth worked her way through Shakespeare's sonnets and the collected works of Lord Byron, Shelley, Wordsworth, Dunne and others. She even made Jane happy by asking if Jane would accompany her to the lending library. Jane was happy to see some animation in her beloved sister and, although she could not understand Elizabeth's sudden obsession with poetry, she was happy to help carry some of Elizabeth's books as there were too many for her to cope with alone.

As she worked through the list and found each of his lines in one poem or another, Elizabeth feelings of unease grew. It wasn't that he had used poets for inspiration, or even that he said them as if he had thought of them himself; it was that all of what he said was from poems he must have read, nothing was original. This realisation caused Elizabeth to try to concentrate on the end of the evening, the words she overheard, just after he left. What was it that he said to his friend? And what was the reply? While she couldn't remember the words, Elizabeth felt a rising sense of panic, she knew the words were of the utter most importance, but somehow dreaded remembering them.

Wanting to remember does not make the memory come. The more she tried, the more the memory seemed to slip away. Not being able to remember these crucial statements, Elizabeth's anxiety grew. She became nervous, anxious, even, at times, frantic. Jane tried to sooth her, but Elizabeth could not burden Jane with this - the sister who always did what was right, never acted as a hoyden, always believed the best of a person. How this would shatter her sister's love and respect. How such an angel, if she knew, would be willing to stay in the same room as her. No it was not possible. Elizabeth was convinced this was a burden she would have to cope with alone, so she avoided her family, if it was at all possible.

Mr Bennet only noticed that his favourite daughter had not come to see him to ask about the case recently and failed to register her absence or subdued demeanour. His neglect was, in many ways, a blessing. Mrs Bennet noticed the uncharacteristic behaviour of her second child and drew the wrong conclusion. Convinced that this was just the sulks from having her freedom restricted, Mrs Bennet tried even harder to dictate Elizabeth's schedule and provide the instructions in manners and propriety that she had clearly failed to learn before.

Trying her best to behave properly from now on, Elizabeth restrained her normal inclinations and tried to act more like Jane, which Mrs Bennet did approve of. She sat, without complaining or offering excuses, to Mrs Bennet's seemingly endless negative commentary of her prior behaviour. This added pressure sometimes proved too much, and Jane had to often intervene when the continual criticism caused Elizabeth to descend into uncontrolled sobbing.

The only area which Elizabeth did not offer unconditional acceptance of her mother's decrees was in refusing to go to any future social engagements. Finding her least favourite daughter compliant to every dictate but this, Mrs Bennet redoubled her efforts to get Elizabeth to obey her in this as well. Nothing worked, ultimatums, flat out demands, threats of punishment, offers of bribery, nothing. Even using Jane's happiness against Elizabeth was tried once, but when Jane said that if her attendance was based on Elizabeth's going, and if her sister did not want to go, Jane was happy to stay at home as well (Jane then chose not to see her Mothers angry glare after making that statement). Mrs Bennet's final option, evoking Mr Bennet, was entirely counterproductive.

"I demand to you tell Lizzie she must go to the ball tonight, she refuses."

"Obviously, Mrs Bennet, my Lizzie has taken all there is to enjoy from the many balls she has already been to and sees no need to continue the experience. I am only surprised that it has taken her so long. I thought she had more intelligence than this."

Making it very clear that he would not back her, Mrs Bennet was extremely annoyed with him. "You do so enjoy vexing me." With a pointed look in Elizabeth's direction, she let Elizabeth know this was not finished. "Lizzie, you can stay home tonight, but I will have you attend the following one."

Elizabeth had hoped that her father would then clearly state she did not have to go out from then on, but he just returned to his reading. "_No matter_" thought Elizabeth, "_I will just have to go through this again the next time – but Mama cannot make me go, whatever methods she uses in the attempt__._"

Thus Jane prepared for the Whittington Ball, but only after talking with Elizabeth about it. Elizabeth refused to go, but wanted Jane to attend, as she did not want her problems to prevent her from going and enjoying herself. Jane was a little relieved that Elizabeth did not mind if she went, because she was looking forward to it. The enforced break from socialising had allowed Jane time to think about how she felt about the Viscount and the possibility of marriage to him. While she was not in love with him, Jane though she could grow to love him. Jane also realised that her engagement would focus Mrs Bennet's attention on her, giving Elizabeth a break. Once she was married, Elizabeth could come and live with her rather than having to stay at home. So that evening Jane resolved to see how he was towards her, and if he continued his attentions maybe he would "come up to the mark" as Mama has predicted. If that happened Jane convinced herself she should say yes.

* * *

><p>Jane found the evening less enjoyable without Elizabeth. When friends and acquaintances inquired about their absence and Elizabeth's absence tonight, they were told that Elizabeth had been ill, and although recovered, had found the constant activity too much, so was taking a break. Elizabeth's friends offered sympathy, and asked if she was well enough to visit. Tactfully Jane let it be known that Elizabeth had still not fully recovered and it would be best if they refrain from visiting.<p>

As per usual, Mrs Bennet managed Jane's dance card so the supper dance and one other later remained free in case the Viscount Sumerville put in an appearance. As the supper dance drew nearer, and he had not arrived, Mrs Bennet grew nervous. Did he note Jane's absence at the last event? Could that have caused him to shy off? When he had not arrived in time Mrs Bennet had to let Jane accept one of the other gentlemen that clamoured for her hand for the supper dance instead. Tonight was not going as planned, not at all! First Lizzie refusing to come, then Jane being so subdued and now the Viscount absent for the supper dance, Mrs Beent was seriously displeased her plans were going to naught!

About half an hour after supper Mrs Bennet was relieved to see the Viscount had arrived, late, but here he was. And he came straight over. After the pleasantries had been concluded, Mrs Bennet realised he was not even at the last event, nor did he seem to notice Elizabeth absence. Actually, it was probably a good thing Lizzie wasn't here, she did have a habit of preventing the Viscount from finding time to be alone with her Jane. Mrs Bennet had high hopes there would be a declaration tonight, he certainly seemed more attentive. The Viscount was standing beside her, waiting for Jane to finish with her current partner. Mrs Bennet had arranged the Viscount to dance with her next (by cutting out the person written on Jane's card and sending him off to get refreshments).

"Madam, it is very hot here tonight."

"Yes, my Lord, I quite agree."

"Instead of dancing, maybe I could take your beautiful daughter out onto the terrace?"

"Yes of course, the night is quite splendid".

"Thank you. Ah, her she comes now."

Jane walked over, her features slightly flushed from the dance. Mrs Bennet leant to whisper to Jane, "He will be taking you out on to the terrace, try to get him to declare himself." She smiled sweetly at them both and placed Jane's hand on his arm. "Shoo. Shoo."

Sumerville escorted Jane out onto the terrace. While there nothing much to see, a light drizzle meant even the gardens were hardly visible, the air was cool and refreshing. As they strolled along, Sumerville repeated the romantic lines that he had noted worked the best with her sister a week or so ago, with similar positive results this time. After reaching the most secluded part of the terrace, Sumerville took Jane in his arms and said "I know this is very forward of me, but I can't resist". Giving her no chance to react, he bent forward and kissed Jane. Jane was surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

Even though it was a fairly chaste kiss, Jane knew the impropriety of what they had done, so she blushed crimson and turned her head away, embarrassed. By doing so, Jane did not see the look of annoyance that crossed Sumerville's face, but he knew with this one, he had to act cautiously. Returning back they way he came, he continued the romantic lines, this time hinting that an offer would be made, but ensuring that he actually promised nothing.

Returning Jane to her mother, Mrs Bennet saw the remnants of Jane's blush, and smiled broadly. Sumerville asked if he could excuse himself as he had another event he just had to return to, but had he needed to come here, if only briefly, to see Jane. Mrs Bennet assured of him of their forgiveness, then paused. There was an awkward silence, as Mrs Bennet waited to hear news of something that had not happened. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Sumerville blurted out that he would ensure Jane would receive an invitation to the Dowager Countess of Fenwick's ball in a few days time, then bowing deeply, he departed.

Sumerville had his driver take the carriage back to the gaming hell he had come from. He had nearly forgotten to attend tonight, but it seemed, making her wait had been better than if he had gone in time for the supper dance. Still, Sumerville kicked himself, _"why did I invite her to the Fenwick ball – well it is a house I know and should be allowed to have Hatcher act as a servant to control the drinks she gets – but it is probably too soon to try yet – or is it – yes, probably – anyway this ball was too public an event – if people saw much of them together it might be difficult to extract himself without consequence. Oh well, what's done is done, make the best of it now". _Sumerville realised he had better work out how he could get Lord Fenwick to get his mother to send a late invite. He would owe Lord Fenwick, but it had to be for Jane alone, if that mother attended her vulgar behaviour would upset the Dowager and thus cause his friend so much trouble he'd never hear the end of it.

Neither Jane nor Mrs Bennet cared much for the rest of the evening now that the Viscount had left, so they made their excuses soon after he did. Mrs Bennet was in raptures for the rest of the evening. He would certainly propose at the Dowager Countess's Ball, there could be no other reason why he would have invited Jane personally. That neither Mr Bennet nor Lizzie were up when she got home to share her news with them annoyed her, but she could tell them tomorrow. Mrs Bennet went to bed imagining all the congratulations she would receive having a daughter marry Viscount Sumerville, who would be the Earl of Matlock one day.

Jane was very happy, he did love her after all and should soon propose. He had almost done so on the terrace, maybe he was just waiting to visit with Papa or, as Mama had suggested in the carriage, waiting for a more romantic setting which delaying to the Fenwick ball would allow him to arrange. Yet, did she tell Elizabeth? Jane was pretty certain from her behaviour that Elizabeth had had her heart broken, nevertheless Elizabeth should be happy for her.

* * *

><p>Later that same night, Elizabeth woke suddenly and sat bolt upright. She remembered now – He had got up. He was mostly dressed already and, after cleaning her with a cloth, started to help her dress. That's right. She was both embarrassed and angry because she noticed his two friends standing in the entrance. He made some excuse about them just arriving, but they'd been there a while, probably from when Sumerville had looked out of the pavilion before return to gaze to her. Yes, now Elizabeth is certain of it. Then he exits with them, leaving his servant to finish buttoning her up. That's when she heard, "that was a pleasurable way to win being able to buy your horse". And then "If I have the other sister, is it free?" The, it was the sleazier of his friends, who said, "Done".<p>

Elizabeth's first reaction was "_They must have seen me undressed... oh my Lord, and probably before then when we were ... doing that ... together for ages!"_ The mortification of two others having been watching was overwhelming, and then realisation of the overhead conversation combined with what she had learnt of his 'romantic words' dawned. _"Oh God, he did it for a bet. He took my virtue for a bet! And it was just a bet to buy a horse! My virtue, my whole future, ruined so he could buy a horse! The words, the kisses, the evenings together, it was just a seduction, deliberate and callous, for that end and that end alone. There was no love, there never was any love, the desire I saw was just lust."_

Elizabeth flared with anger. No more will she wallow in self recrimination. Yes, she was guilty of adultery, the sin was something that she will have to live with for the rest of her life, but it was from her foolish actions, brought about by her pride and rebellious spirit. But he, he was despicable. He had used his worldly experience and wealth to corrupt an innocent girl, knowingly and deliberately. Devious, cold-hearted, contemptible man!

Then the bottom fell out of her world, Elizabeth went from righteous anger to stone-cold terror in a moment. " '_If I have the other sister is it free? Done.' Jane! Oh God , Jane! He'll be after her as well. What can I do? I have to warn her, but how? I will have to tell her. No. Yes!"_ Elizabeth could not leave Jane to be at risk from this man, this beast in human guise. She knew that Jane's respect for her would be gone after her confession. Elizabeth sat up for a long time, going over and over how to tell Jane, in a way that might retain some semblance of Jane's love for her. Panicking, Elizabeth thought what if Jane is in love, what if she won't listen? The only thing to do then is to tell Papa, and if things get really desperate, Mama. Elizabeth desperately wanted Jane to believe her, but resolved, whatever the consequence, Jane future was more important than hers, she was already lost. As she returned to sleep Elizabeth realised that in as much as five days ago was hard on her she would survive it, but tomorrow, oh tomorrow, it might just destroy her completely.


	8. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 8

**Part 1 – Ingénue - Chapter 8**

The next morning Elizabeth woke late, her late night resolution had finally calmed her troubled mind and she had the first decent sleep since Vauxhall. As unpleasant as today would be, the uncertainty of what to do was gone. Knowing that today she would do what was necessary to protect her sister, Elizabeth started the day energised. Jane was already up, partaking of breakfast. Elizabeth saw the smile on Jane's lips and the slightly dreamy expression in her eyes. This was going to be more difficult than she had imagined, Jane looked like she was in love, or if not, well on the way there.

Elizabeth tried to think what else to say beyond "good morning" but nothing came to mind, so she selected a decent sized plate for herself instead. She hadn't realised she had been so hungry. When she finished her first plate she went back for seconds. As she was finishing the second plate she noticed Jane had finished and was just sitting watching her.

"Sorry, I woke up very hungry this morning. I am feeling a lot better, so have my appetite back."

"So I see, I'm glad you are feeling better. You look better too, sleep well?"

"Yes Jane, a lot better than I have done for quite a while".

After a pause, they both then said simultaneously. "Jane". "Lizzie".

After a moment to sort out who would go first, Jane said, smiling fully, "I have some news, but what were you going to say?"

"No you first."

"Well it is a little private, maybe you are up for a stroll in the park this morning?

"I would love to. What I have to say is also better without others around. So, five minutes?"

At this agreement, the sisters went upstairs to change.

Meeting a few minutes later in the hall, Jane informed the footman that they were going to the nearby park for a stroll and would be back an indefinite time later.

Walking arm in arm to the park Jane and Elizabeth did not need to say anything, just being together was calming. Once they got there they strolled to the bridge over the pond. This was an ideal place to share a confidence, it was a reason for stopping, and was quite private as no one could get close without being seen.

"Well, Jane, out with it"

"Oh, Lizzie, it was wonderful, he kissed me! I think he might propose." Jane was furiously blushing and looked down embarrassed. This was probably for the best, if Jane had seen the look of horror on Elizabeth's face at her statement Jane would have got entirely the wrong impression. But, thankfully she didn't and Elizabeth was able to control her reaction before Jane was once again looking up.

"_Oh dear"_ thought Elizabeth, _"She is in love. This is going to be much harder than I thought. I just hope that Jane does not hate me after this"_. Thankfully Jane's next words removed some of the anxiety Elizabeth was feeling.

"Lizzie, I don't I love him, but I think I could. Is that bad?"

Elizabeth wasn't sure what to say, so made a non-committal noise.

Jane continued, "He took me out on the terrace last night, although, I think that was Mama's idea. The after some romantic words – I didn't know he was so poetic – but then he apologised, and then he kissed me. It was nice, but I wonder, he is very forward, you know, kissing me when we are not even engaged. I don't know if that means he is a rake, and is not a sincere as he should be. And afterwards he almost promised to marry me, but I suppose he is waiting for the right moment to talk to Papa or something."

Jane paused her monologue to look at Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked worried. Jane misinterpreted this, so continued, "Well, Papa has not said anything bad about him, and we all know Mama likes him very well indeed. And she said that all young men are always a little wild before they get married, but settle down after that. Do you think he's a little wild – no I suppose not – you are a little wild at times – anyway if I do get an offer, I think I should accept it, it will make Mama so happy – and – and as a Viscountess I will be able to look after all of you if Papa dies – but best of all, even if he is not the best of husband's, I can have you stay with me and you can be that favourite aunt and teach my children to climb trees and play the piano very ill."

While Jane was rambling her thoughts out loud, Elizabeth started crying. Coming to the end, Jane again looked at Elizabeth.

"Oh Lizzie, what is the matter? I won't leave you, you can come with me. I am sure he won't mind you living with us."

At this Elizabeth completely broke down, sobbing violently.

"Dear Lizzie, stop, please stop." Jane embraced Elizabeth, very worried, as all Elizabeth kept doing was sobbing and whispering, "Jane, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, oh Jane, don't leave me Jane, I'm so sorry…"

Jane responded, "Shh Lizzie, shh. It will be alright, I won't leave you. I promise." This seemed to calm Elizabeth. Continuing until Elizabeth had calmed down some, Jane led her over to a bench in a secluded corner of the park. "Here sit, calm down, I won't leave you, ever."

"How can you promise that when you don't know what I've done."

"Tell me, we can be strong together."

"Oh Jane, I'm so sorry, I have ruined my future, and I may gave ruined yours…" With this as her opening statement, Elizabeth proceeded to tell Jane the whole story, starting from her parent's argument, being invited to a masquerade ball with Sumerville and what he said about why he was now pursuing her not Jane, sneaking out, the free atmosphere of the masked ball, of getting slightly foxed, the kisses, then sneaking out to Vauxhall Gardens. At that point Elizabeth paused and looked at Jane. Jane, realising instinctively that Elizabeth had yet got to the worst part of her narrative, just gave her another embrace, then said she was alright with Lizzie, so she should continue.

Elizabeth took several tries to continue, interspersed with sobbing. In the end, over nearly half an hour, Jane was told the whole story, leaving nothing out. Elizabeth's anger returned as she started to relate the final part of the evening, and so she was able to tell Jane about the bet, and the risk to Jane as a result, in a calm, deliberate way.

Jane was also in tears by this stage, but was able to reassure her dear sister it was because she share her pain, and asked if she could take any of it on herself. Jane was rocked by the revelations about how duplicitous Viscount Sumerville could be, and yet appear so good. No matter how she tried, Jane could not see anything good about his actions, and that there could be people that selfish and evil, shocked her to the core. Neither sister would return to Longbourn anything like the person who left for London.

For the longest period they sat and talked, sharing the feelings that they had not wanted to tell the other to spare the other from worry. Jane was able to convince Elizabeth, that she was disappointed in Elizabeth's recklessness, while their future would be different than how the had imagined it would be prior to coming to London, their lives were not over, their future still had promise. Jane tried, and was partly successful in getting Elizabeth to assign the lion's share of the blame on the much more experience man, who was nearly twice her age, who preyed on a young innocent girl of only 15. Elizabeth knew at that moment Jane's unconditional love to her sister had not been diminished by this confession, in many ways it may have even grown stronger, and that could only make Elizabeth love Jane so much more in return.

At the same time as Elizabeth found peace and acceptance of her future, what ever it would be, and matured as a person as the result, Jane was also changed in a fundamental way. Jane realised that believing that everyone was good and decent, in many ways was just as naïve as Elizabeth had been, a luxury only available to children, as an adult she could not live like that and not be badly hurt by doing so.

Realising that they had been gone most of the morning, they got up and smiled wistfully to each other as they shook the pins and needles out of their legs. They walked home in the same close comradeship that had characterised their relationship since they were small, the emotional distance between them that had started developing since coming to London erased completely. On the way back to the rented house, the discussed what they would do when they met him again. Well before arriving back, they had their solution.

* * *

><p>On arriving home, Mrs Bennet was already up, and excitedly yelling for Jane that her invitation for the Fenwick ball had arrived. Jane looked at Elizabeth, they both nodded. Jane said she was pleased that he had not promised something he could not deliver. Mrs Bennet was so excited it took five minutes for her effusions to finish. Elizabeth was worried at one point that she'd fall over as her mother had not take a breath, so quickly she was speaking. By the end Mrs Bennet had collapsed into a chair and was fanning herself with the invite.<p>

After a suitable pause to recover, Mrs Bennet was up and off, entering Mr Bennet's library without knocking to personally deliver the news, an event the sisters did not think their mother would ever be brave enough to do. Mr Bennet was vaguely pleased for his daughter, but could not state so at level of enthusiasm necessary to please his wife.

The days before the ball was spent going through each wardrobe to select the perfect gown. Mrs Bennet did bemoan that she had not ordered anything more suitable (expensive), but had to settle for what was already made, as there was not enough time to make new ones. Once selected, Mrs Bennet felt nothing else they had was good enough, so it was off to the various warehouses to buy brand new slippers, ribbons to update the gowns and for their hair, new reticules, and almost every other item. Mrs Bennet was in seventh heaven, and seemed to have enormous reserves of energy, that both daughters could hardly keep up.

* * *

><p>Jane was very pleased that, although the invitation was for her alone, Mrs Bennet took no notice of that. "Of course it is for all of us, dearest Jane, we can hardly expect your Viscount to remember to ask for each of our names to be written on it or to send one to each of us separately. Trust me, I know these things, it has only your name on it to honour you particularly." So with her unshakeable belief in the rightness of her actions, Jane, Elizabeth and Mrs Bennet turned up at Fenwick House in their best, although it paled in comparison to the couture worn by the members of the ton in attendance.<p>

The Dowager appeared pleased to see Jane, less so of her mother, and surprised to see Elizabeth, but welcomed them with suitable, if condescending, politeness. Jane and Elizabeth's fear that their mother would embarrass them with intemperate comments proved unfounded, the occasion and architecture so overwhelming that Mrs Bennet did not say a word other than polite greetings for the entire time they waited for the dancing to start and circulated, occasionally getting introductions.

As the musicians tuned for the first dance, neither Jane nor Elizabeth had any names on their dance card. When the first dance started without the Viscount in attendance, Mrs Bennet started to worry. Elizabeth started getting anxious just think about having to meet the Viscount in his world, but Jane noticed and squeezed her hand in sympathy. While Jane's beauty could overcome their obvious lower status and less expensive couture, Elizabeth did not have that advantage. So it was no surprise to Elizabeth that Jane was asked for the second dance and she was left watching. When Jane went with her partner out on to the dance floor, Elizabeth chose to go and get refreshment rather than to be seen standing out for two dances in a row.

Once the second dance was over, Jane's partner asked Elizabeth for the third, and his friend asked Jane. By this stage both Jane and Elizabeth had started to get over their nervousness and enjoyed partaking in the figures of the dance. It helped that the two gentlemen danced superbly. After the dance they returned Jane and Elizabeth to Mrs Bennet and offered to get refreshments while the musicians took a short break.

While the gentlemen were gone, Mrs Bennet squealed in a loud stage whisper, "He's here, and he's coming over. Prepare yourselves, girls". Jane looked at Elizabeth, willing her to be strong. Elizabeth swallowed hard, then put her shoulders back and grinned back at Jane. Together they composed themselves as he approached. Mrs Bennet pushed Jane gently but firmly, causing her to step forward or risk falling over.

* * *

><p>As he approached Sumerville was pleased to see Jane step towards him. He had been late arriving and missed the first dance, overseeing the arrangements with Hatcher had delayed him further. He was glad that this did not seem to have caused him to loose ground, Jane still seemed eager to see him. Elizabeth's presence was a real fly in the ointment, but she was only a young girl, she couldn't faze him. His friends, who had followed him across the ballroom floor smirked at seeing Elizabeth here.<p>

Putting on his most charming smile, he winked at Elizabeth (and secretly laughed when she blanched in response) said "Greetings, my dears" and then, in slightly exaggerated movements to make a more dramatic entrance, bowed deeply and held the pose for a moment.

As he did so he heard gasps from those around him. This puzzled him, his entrance was dramatic, but not to that extent. He looked up to see only the backs of Jane and Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet was turning deadly pale. During his perfectly executed bow, the pair of little misses had cut him, a Viscount, cut! A man of his consequence had given the cut direct by the lowest pair of baggage in the room! They were only here because he specifically had Jane, not the others, just Jane, invited.

He was livid! Motionless and absolutely speechless with rage!

The snickers from those that knew his disreputable reputation which, obviously included Lord Fenwick and Tuffy still behind him, were mortifying. So unprepared for this outcome he could not think of anything suitable to say as a retort. There was a thud as Mrs Bennet collapsed in a dead faint. Jane and Elizabeth quickly crouched beside their mother, Jane cradling her head and Elizabeth looking for her smelling salts.

The only thing that Sumerville could think to do was get away from here, so he stormed off, still without saying anything. Thankfully for his sense of pride, while members of the ton were deliberately cruel to each other, they defended even their sworn enemies from those outside it, which unfortunately for Jane and Elizabeth, it was obvious they were. So the members of the ton, seeing two 'encroaching mushrooms' having the audacity to cut one of their own, returned the treatment. Soon, as Mrs Bennet came around, the three were in a small empty space with those on the edges all facing away. Realising their time here was over, they helped their mother to leave, the space around them forming and closing as they moved through the ballroom towards the entrance.

* * *

><p>Mrs Bennet went straight to bed and stayed in there the entire day following. She was so shocked by what had happened that her daughters were spared the recriminations that they thought would be heaped on them. Mr Bennet offered some sympathy, but to Jane and Elizabeth relief, told Mrs Bennet that there was no need for them to stay with him in London. Soon the house was packed up and headed back home to Longbourn. Mr Bennet was only too happy to give up the house and moved to the Gardener's to continue the court case, the arrangement that he had wanted from the start.<p>

The trip home was not pleasant, Mrs Bennet had had a few days to recover, and without Mr Bennet there to tone her down, the entire trip was spent with their mother berating and bemoaning her ungrateful, disobliging daughters.


	9. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 9

**Part 1 – Ingénue - Chapter 9**

For Jane and Elizabeth the return to Longbourn was like returning to their real life, London was a nightmare that could be forgotten. Mrs Bennet moaned about returning early, but thankfully, the trip home was the last time that she could mention their cutting the Viscount without risking the neighbourhood learning of it. That was not to say that Mrs Bennet let them off without punishment. But there were many ways to avoid their mother while at home, and both Jane and Elizabeth took these opportunities as they arose. In time, new gossip or misbehaviour by her other daughters meant Mrs Bennet forgot to keep punishing Jane and Elizabeth, and things returned to normal.

The youngest two sisters all wanted to hear about London, particularly the fashions and balls. As Jane provided most of the answers, none of the other sisters noticed how much more subdued and thoughtful Elizabeth had become. Mary could have noticed, but as she generally kept her opinions to herself, no one knew for sure.

Jane and Elizabeth continued to meet in Jane's room to talk while preparing for bed, but as either Kitty or Lydia had a habit of barging in without knocking, they chose to only discuss 'safe' subjects. The real discussions about what had happened in London, and their hopes and fears for the future occurred when they walked into Meryton to shop or visited Charlotte. As their three younger sisters did not enjoy long walks meant it was often just the pair of them, and the long empty roads gave the privacy they needed.

Elizabeth and Charlotte became close, particularly as a visit to the Lucas's was a perfect excuse to get out of the house. After a large number of visits over several months, Charlotte told Elizabeth about her disastrous London season, including all her embarrassing moments and how she felt after this had affected her hopes for the future. Elizabeth felt comfortable enough to respond in kind. She could not impose on her friendship with Charlotte without Charlotte knowing the guilt she was feeling from her loss of virtue. Charlotte responded to this confession with love and concern, not scorn and rejection. From that moment Charlotte became nearly as dear to Elizabeth as Jane.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had noticed, that since London, her body which had been still slightly girlish before going, was now rapidly changing to a woman's figure. She had to let out all her dresses. She put this down to her body maturing to catch up with her mind. After Jane was in bed the third time with woman's trouble and Elizabeth had yet to have to since returning to London, she became very worried.<p>

The next day, Elizabeth went on a long solitary walk to think about this. Was it possible she was with child? While she found the idea of being pregnant difficult to deal with, somehow her gut feeling knew was it was true. Living as they did in the country, all the Bennet girls had a reasonable awareness of reproduction, and visits with a younger Aunt that had children of her own, Elizabeth was aware of the symptoms of pregnancy. Now her variable appetite, odd cravings, the nausea in the morning, fatigue and feeling faint later in the afternoon, she had thought was due to the emotional turmoil she still found herself feeling made perfect sense.

"_So, I am with child, now what?" _ First she thought about who to tell? Jane definitely. Maybe Charlotte, as well. Elizabeth was sure Charlotte would not tell anyone. She might also be able to help as she had helped her mother and, more recently, a cousin who had two children already. The second time Charlotte had gone before her cousin's confinement had started. Definitely not tell Mama, and not Kitty and Lydia either, that would be like posting it in large letters on the Post Office wall! Not Mary either, she had a habit of telling tales on her sisters as a distraction if Mama was criticising her for something. The most difficult decision was whether to tell her father. In this Elizabeth was torn, his nature was such even Elizabeth could not tell how he would react to this. Maybe better not to, but then she'd feel guilty about not telling him.

Leaving that decision unmade, Elizabeth thought about what to do. Her only immediate decision was that she would not, under any circumstances, marry Viscount Sumerville. She would like to bring the child up herself, but how could she do that without bringing disgrace to her family? Of course she could get married, but she could not conjure a groom out of thin air. The only local that would consider marrying someone carrying another's child would be Mr Hunt, and Elizabeth had heard the rumours that he had driven his first wife to her death, so he was not a possibility. Maybe Aunt Gardener would know what to do.

At the end of the walk, no closer to a solution, but at least feeling reconciled to her new situation, Elizabeth returned home. That night she wrote a letter to her Aunt Gardener, briefly explaining what she had done and the consequences, and asking for her advice. Elizabeth requested that her Aunt not tell her Uncle or father anything yet, as she wanted to do it personally. She also asked Jane to accompany her to Charlotte's tomorrow.

The next day, Elizabeth, Jane and Charlotte walked into the woods near Lucas Lodge. After finding a secluded spot, Elizabeth related her news. Jane and Charlotte were shocked, but sympathetic. Elizabeth explained that she wanted to raise the child as her own, but could not see a way of doing this without bringing disgrace to her family or having to marry someone like Mr Hunt, who they all detested, (maybe not Jane, but you could not tell with her). Charlotte said that her father had turned him down also. Charlotte did ask about marriage with the father, but Elizabeth said definitely not, and Jane agreed, so that idea was dropped. Their limited knowledge meant they came up with more and more impractical 'solutions' but nothing that could be acted on. The only thing agreed on was that they would help Elizabeth try to hide her condition as long as possible while a solution appeared.

Over the next few days, they let out all Elizabeth's dresses, although Elizabeth sole job was to unpick the seams, her needlework was not up to sewing them back together. Thankfully Mrs Bennet had the dresses made with plenty of spare material so they could be adjusted to fit when they were passed down form one sister to the next. Charlotte had to lend several of her stays to Elizabeth, as even Jane, the best seamstress among them, was capable of altering undergarments.

In time Mrs Gardener's replied. She suggested that she could arrange with one of her London friends, to need help with their children for some reason and request Elizabeth stay for about 6 months to a year and so Elizabeth could enter her confinement without anyone in Meryton knowing. Once in London she and Elizabeth would be able to talk more about what to do next. Mrs Gardener said that she would only help if Elizabeth promised that once in London she told her father. She would start to arrange this if Elizabeth agreed, but warned it may take a few weeks to find a suitable family that would agree to this.

The three ladies discussed Mrs Gardener's letter the very next day, and agreed that this was a much better solution than any of the ones that they had come up with. Elizabeth mentioned that she was worried about how Papa would take the news, but Charlotte and Jane both agreed that if Elizabeth and Mrs Gardener were able to present Mr Bennet with a solution that did not require him to do anything at the time he was informed of her condition, he was likely to be less angry with Elizabeth. That night Elizabeth replied, requesting that Mrs Gardener start the process on her behalf.

* * *

><p>Mrs Bennet was not a clever woman, but she was a mother with a mother's concern for her children. Thus she paid a great deal of attention to each of them and noticed many things her daughters thought she had not. She had noticed many of the changes to Elizabeth, and the more subtle ones with Jane, but did not ever think that Elizabeth could be pregnant.<p>

Mrs Bennet had taken all of her daughters into Meryton to get fitted for dresses for winter. As the deception with Elizabeth's clothing had been successful for a while now, both Jane and Elizabeth thought nothing of the 6 monthly visits to the Meryton Seamstress. While there, Elizabeth saw a dress that she really liked, and without thinking about how much her body had changed, tried it on. Stepping out from behind a screen to look at the mirror in the main area of the dressing room, her shape pushed the dress out of shape so that her condition was obvious to everyone there.

Mrs Bennet cried out "Lizzie, you're with child!"

Everyone turned and stared. Elizabeth turned deadly pale, clasping her hands protectively over her stomach, she seemed to fold in on herself and collapsed in a dead faint. Jane rushed over to her and cradled her sister's head.

Elizabeth's response confirmed Mrs Bennet's fears were true and started shrieking in hysteria. He babbling suddenly stopped when Mrs Bennet also fainted. Jane and the seamstress were busy with Elizabeth. Mary had been in the process of being pinned into a partly-made dress and so could not do anything, even if she had thought of something useful to do. Lydia and Kitty both yelled at Jane; "What should I do? Mama's fainted." As Elizabeth was of far more of concern to Jane than her mother at that time, she yelled back for them to get smelling salts to revive their mother.

Mrs Bennet was of a nervous disposition and was well known for fainting, so she normally carried smelling salts in her reticule. Whether she did not have them, or in their panic Kitty and Lydia overlooked them, this is where the disaster really started to unfold. Not finding the smelling salts, Kitty thought that their mother's sister, Mrs Phillips, who was of a similar disposition, would have them readily to hand. Making a bit of a spectacle of herself by running the short way to her Aunt's house, Kitty burst into the sitting room, blurting out "Auntie Phillip's I need smelling salts. Now! Mama's fainted, 'cause Lizzie's with child!"

Mrs Phillips was only too happy to deliver the smelling salts to her sister, personally. This was the juiciest gossip she had heard in a very long time. That it involved the disgrace of a niece did not register at the time. The three other Meryton matrons in the sitting room, also gossips like the Mrs Phillips, looked at each other in wonder, then turned and followed Kitty and her Aunt out the door.

Kitty led Mrs Phillips back to the seamstress shop. Mrs Phillips entered the dressing room behind her niece, and seeing her sister prostrate in a chair, waved the smelling salts under Mrs Bennet's nose. Following Mrs Phillips into the seamstress's shop were the three matrons who had been visiting her and a number of the other ladies of the town, drawn to the uncommon activity. All of who wanted to know what was going on. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, the dressing room was too small to accommodate any of them, so they stayed in the shop proper, unseen but easily able to hear. At this time all the Bennets and Mrs Phillips were unaware of this audience. Had they been, they may have been able to contain the situation although, as three of Meryton's best gossips already knew, it was probably already too late.

On being revived, Mrs Bennet looked from her chair to see Elizabeth still lying there, Jane trying, in her calm way, to revive her. The way she lay, with her hands clasped around an already protruding baby bump was enough to set Mrs Bennet off again. Regular doses of the smelling salts stopped her fainting, but no one could stop her loud berating of Elizabeth for getting herself into this condition, interspersed with her moaning about how they were ruined and complaints of being ill-used – which was an attempt for sympathy from her sister, Mrs Phillips. And, at the time, no one thought to attempt stop her rants.

Elizabeth came round in the care of her beloved Jane, calming and soothing her. Her mother's hysteria was just background noise. Jane was so focussed on Elizabeth so she had not noticed their audience. Nor had the younger girls, who were more interested in their mother, what she was saying and the implications for themselves. Mrs Phillips, not so caught up in the family drama, turned and gulped. All she could do at that point was to glare at those in the front of the shop and shut the door. Mrs Phillips then tried to get Mrs Bennet to be quiet, or at least be quieter. This was not easy and it took a number of minutes before she could get through to Mrs Bennet that she had been heard by an audience that include most of the important ladies of Meryton.

From Elizabeth's position on the floor, those standing in the store were in plain sight until the door was shut. At that point Elizabeth knew whatever plans she and Mrs Gardener were making were lost, hiding her condition was no longer possible. Bursting into tears, she whispered to Jane, "They all know, then everyone in Meryton will know, I have ruined you all."

"It is not that bad, Lizzie." Jane whispered back.

"Yes it is Jane. What you can't see is that Mrs Williams, Miss Pettigrew, Mrs Durnst and others are all there, standing in the shop. They will have heard everything, and probably seen me, we cannot deny it now".

"Hush, hush, dearest Elizabeth, we will get through this".

"How can I face them? What can I do?" With this last anguished statement, Elizabeth broke down in deep heart-wrenching sobs that Jane could not stop, whatever she did. Thinking it was best to let Elizabeth cry herself out, Jane got her up, and led her around behind the dressing screen. Jane helped Elizabeth out of the dress that precipitated this awful scene, as Elizabeth seemed incapable of doing it on her own and got her back into the altered dress she had arrived in. Mary, sick of standing around in a half made dress, followed suit and got back into her own dress as well.

The local seamstress, not used to such events, had stayed quiet and tried to be as unnoticed as possible. However seeing her shop was rapidly becoming a circus, she left the dressing room. Closing the door behind her, she shooed the gossips of Meryton out the front door and shut up shop for the rest of the morning. The matrons of Meryton, moved only as far as they had to, so they continued to discuss this revelation on the doorstep. This maximised the spread of this juicy bit of gossip, as all present shopping that day came over to find out why there was a crowd outside the dressmaker's shop. The worried seamstress returned to the dressing room and hovered around the various members of the Bennet Family, being solicitous of their needs, but strongly hinting that she would prefer if they went home soon.

Mrs Phillips also realised the Bennet's need to go home. Elizabeth, back in her altered gown, looked much less pregnant now than when she was lying on the floor, and if they were to be able get out with any semblance of dignity, they would have to leave soon. Getting Mrs Bennet to her feet, Mrs Phillips pushed her out of the dressing room and then ushered the gaggle of girls out as well. She said goodbye to the seamstress, then checked that the others are reasonably composed. The crowd around the shop had dispersed a little, but turned back once the door opened. Mrs Phillips stared them down forcing them to turn away again to give the Bennet's some privacy. Once they had moved sufficiently far away, Mrs Phillips led them out onto the High Street and sent them off home to Longbourn.

After watching them depart, Mrs Phillips went to see her husband in his office, and told him that Elizabeth was pregnant and related how this now was common knowledge in Meryton. While he was still trying to come to terms with this information, Mrs Phillips told him that he had to send an express letter to Mr Bennet at once to break the news to him, as she was off to Longbourn to assist her sister cope with this devastating news.

* * *

><p>The walk home was agonising. Closer to Longbourn, Elizabeth (and then Jane) sped up leaving the rest behind so they got home first. On arriving, Jane helped Elizabeth to bed, locked the door and then sat in the chair beside her bed to comfort her. Jane stayed there all day and late into the evening, only going to bed herself when she was sure the rest of the house was asleep.<p>

Mrs Bennet's first action on returning home was to attempt to continue to rant at Elizabeth, but found the door locked, and Jane unwilling to let her in. For a few moments Mrs Bennet yelled at her through the door, but realising the embarrassing position she was in, took herself to bed and there she stayed, complaining about anything and everything to all present. Mrs Phillips was there for most of that day, but tended to spur Mrs Bennet's feeling of ill use than calm things down.

The next day, Mrs Hill found herself the subject of whispers and long pointed looks when doing the shopping in Meryton. Mrs Durnst, the chandler, went as far as refusing to serve her. Many invitations were withdrawn, as if Elizabeth's presence would contaminate their own children. That morning Jane tried to assist her mother, but as her mother was still in bed, happily wallowing in her misery, Jane's only real useful function to her mother was to be an audience, which Jane could not take for more than a few hours. Mary's life did not seem to change at all, her reading or pianoforte practice consuming most of her day as it had done for months. Kitty and Lydia actually enjoyed this time as they had more or less no supervision, their mother was in bed and their older sisters had other worries.

Thus Elizabeth stayed in her room that morning. By the afternoon the confines of her room got the better of her, so she left the house on a long walk, accompanied by Jane and Charlotte, who had come to help comfort Elizabeth. Both companions tried to initiate conversation with Elizabeth, but Elizabeth did not know herself what she was thinking or wanted, so was unable to answer any of their questions. Charlotte left late that evening, after giving Jane a chance to catch up on her sleep as Jane had returned to Elizabeth's room very early that morning, waking at the same time as the servants, to make sure she was up before her mother or sisters.

Mr Bennet received the express the next morning and quickly packed. He left for home rather later than he had wanted due to difficulty in hiring suitable transport, and had to spend the night at an inn halfway to Longbourn. Early the next morning he carried on, arriving back just before lunch angry, worried, tired and travel sore.

The same morning found Jane and Elizabeth up early. Jane tried to get Elizabeth to eat, but she only pushed her food around her plate, She did eat a bit after Jane stressed that she needed to eat, if not for her, but for the baby. After breakfast they left to meet up with Charlotte, as agreed yesterday. Mrs Bennet was in bed, and she had planned to do so all day, so had breakfast bought up on a tray. Mary came downstairs later, ate and went to practice the pianoforte for the rest of the morning. Kitty and Lydia woke even later again, had to accept what was left over, then decided to take apart several bonnets and remake them.

* * *

><p>When he arrived he found his wife in bed, the youngest three daughters doing whatever they liked in the parlour and his eldest pair out walking. After changing out of his travelling clothes and freshen up, went into Mrs Bennet's room. After talking with her for some time he went back downstairs to the library, informing Mrs Hill to send Elizabeth do him as soon as she arrived back.<p>

This time Jane and Charlotte chose to talk on more general matters, knowing that Elizabeth probably could not yet answer their questions, and that pressing her would be counterproductive. This semblance of normality was very helpful, as it reminded Elizabeth that, even in times of great crisis, life goes on. The lack of condemnation and their continued love and friendship humbled Elizabeth. She was not sure she would be so accepting if it was one of her sisters (Kitty or Lydia certainly had that potential).

As midday approached, Elizabeth started to feel very hungry, so suggested returning to Longbourn, which they did. Walking towards the back door, they were intercepted by Mrs Hill before they entered. "Miss Lizzie, your Papa's home. He's wanting you to attend him in the library. Oh, and Hannah said a letter had arrived for you."

Charlotte turned to them and excused herself. After they said goodbye, Mrs Hill address Elizabeth again. "Miss Lizzie, if you want a moment to freshen up, I can go take his tea now, so you can up the stairs afore he sees you."

"Thank you, Hill. That will be lovely. Any chance of something to eat?"

"Wait here a moment. When you hear his door closed, up you go. I'll follow later with a bit to eat." Plan made, it was executed perfectly, allowing Elizabeth to pick up her letter, the both of them got up to her room without their father calling Elizabeth into the library.

"Well Lizzie, after we eat, do you want meet Papa? I could distract him to allow you to go back outside to read your letter if you wish."

"Thank you Jane, but no. I can read my letter later. I have to talk to him sometime, and if I avoid it, it will just make it worse when I do."

"I will come with you."

"Thank you Jane, but if he says to go, it will be fine if you go."

"Are you sure?"

"No, not really, but I will not have you in trouble on my behalf, and it will probably just make it worse. His bark is usually far worse than his bite."

They continue to talk about nothing consequential until Mrs Hill arrived with nuncheon. Mrs Hill's idea of a little bit of food was very generous, so even though Elizabeth was very hungry, there was a bit left over when Jane and her had finished. Hunger sated, Elizabeth felt a lot better. With a slight smile to Jane Elizabeth got up and said, "Here we go".

Jane got up as well, and taking Elizabeth's hand gave it a squeeze. "I will be there for you regardless of what happens… After you."


	10. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 10

**Part 1 – Ingénue - Chapter 10**

Elizabeth went downstairs and entered the library, followed closely by Jane.

"Ah, there you are Elizabeth". Mr Bennet looked up, "Oh, hello Jane. Lizzie please take a seat." He gestured for Elizabeth to sit. "Jane, please go get your mother." Obviously dismissing Jane. With squeeze of her shoulder and an encouraging smile Jane left to get her mother. Mr Bennet watched Jane go.

Once the door closed, he turned to his daughter. "So, Lizzie, is it true?"

In a timid voice, Elizabeth replied, "Yes, Papa, I am afraid it is."

"I had been frightened of that. However, what's done is done. Don't worry yourself too much, child, your mother and Mrs Phillips appear to have come up with a solution to your problem between the pair of them. I am sure you can handle the suspense until she manages to get here." After this statement, he lapsed into silence waiting for his wife to arrive. Thankfully for Elizabeth's nerves, Mrs Bennet arrived sooner rather than later.

"Mr Bennet, have you told Lizzie of your solution?" Mrs Bennet asked as soon as she closed the door behind her.

"No, Mrs Bennet, I thought I would leave the honour of telling your solution to Lizzie yourself". He then gestured to her to share.

"Lizzie", gushed Mrs Bennet, "You will give the baby to an orphanage, and … and then you can go away for a year… or two. By the time you get back everyone will have forgotten about your child. You will not be able to marry, not having lost your virtue already, but I am certain you will be helpful to your sisters when they do".

The moment that her mother mentioned giving her baby away Elizabeth felt a panic and dread so strong it was all she could to not to leave the room and run away forever. She knew now that she could only accept a solution that allowed her to raise her baby herself. Whatever the happened, her baby was going to grow up knowing it was someone's natural child, so who better to care for it than its mother, who would genuinely love it.

"No! Mother I will not! Now that my disgrace is known there is no way to hide that I have had a child, I will not give my baby up!" She sunk back in the chair, lifting her knees and wrapping her arms protectively around her unborn child.

Mrs Bennet seemed surprised at Elizabeth's response and looked at Mr Bennet for support. He just shrugged and said to his wife, "I told you that Lizzie would not allow that, and I will not allow you to force her to do so."

Turning to Elizabeth, he said "My dear, the only solution is to marry. Tell me Lizzie, what is the name of your lover? I am sure he can be bought to see reason." Elizabeth hated this solution almost as much as giving her baby away. Her only way to prevent this was silence. She just stared back at her father, saying nothing.

Mr Bennet tried again, "Elizabeth, you must tell his name. Who is it?"

Again he only received silence and a stare in return.

Mrs Bennet joined in, "Lizzie, tell your father, right now! If you don't tell him it will not go well with you, I will make you…" What Mrs Bennet would do was never to be known as Mr Bennet silenced her. "Mrs Bennet, go get Jane. The girls tell each other everything, she will know." At this, Mrs Bennet left.

More demanding each time, Mr Bennet continued to ask the name of the father, but Elizabeth was steadfast in refusing to say anything. Realising that she would not answer, Mr Bennet stopped asking, and waited for Jane to arrive.

Her mother ushered Jane in. Jane looked towards Elizabeth. Their eyes met. Elizabeth looked back at her with genuine fear in her eyes.

Once Jane had closed the door behind her, her father asked, "Ah, Jane, maybe you can clear this up for us. Can you tell us the name of the father?"

Jane looked squarely back at her father, "No Papa I can not."

"Can not or will not?" Mr Bennet was genuinely surprised if Jane did not know.

"Will not, Papa."

"Thank you for your honesty, Jane. No, I will not ask you again. That will be all." Jane realised she had been dismissed. She wanted to stay to provide support for her sister, but she doubted her father would allow that.

Mrs Bennet was surprised at how calmly her husband was taking wilful disobedience from both of his child. As Jane was leaving she said sharply, "Jane, how can you refuse to tell your father? Tell him at once!"

"Mrs Bennet, I will deal with this. And, in my own way." Mrs Bennet sat back in her chair, suitably chastised. "Off you go Jane."

After she had left, he focussed back to Elizabeth. "Well, if both of you will not tell me the father's name I shall have to find someone else to do marry you instead."

"Mr Hunt was very keen on our Jane maybe you can get him to consider Lizzie, Mr Bennet." At this suggestion, Elizabeth visibly paled. Mr Bennet had heard the rumours about the widower, and had hoped he would be able to find someone else, but he thought Mr Hunt would have to do if he couldn't. Turning to Elizabeth, he said, "Well Mr Hunt would be my last choice, but if no one else can be bought to the altar, hear me well my child, you will be there with him!"

"No Papa, I will not! This is my future you are deciding. I know I am young, but I will not marry a person that you have made to marry me!"

"I am your father, and you will do as you are told. You gave up the right to choose when you decided to trade your virtue for some empty romantic words. I thought you were more discerning than your sisters."

"No Papa, you cannot make me marry. They do not allow forced marriages any more! And I will only marry a man I love or not at all."

Mr Bennet scoffed at her refusal, "Love, what do you, a girl of 15, know of love? It is obvious you have already mistaken lust for love at least once. You will marry whom I choose, within the month and that is final. Love is not necessary for marriage, and I tell you now, it is not often found there either."

"No!" Elizabeth crossed her arms and glared back at her father.

"Elizabeth, go to your room. We will continue this discussion at a later date."

Happy to escape the library, Elizabeth got up and left, closing the door behind her. Her parents started talking as soon as she left. Elizabeth leant against the wall just around the corner from the library for a moment to calm down. Her parent's voices increased in volume. Morbid curiosity meant she continued to listen rather than go upstairs, as she had been told to do. While a lot of what they were saying was unintelligible, but it appeared that Mrs Bennet was mentioning Mr Hunt regularly. Initially this produced the most violent of Mr Bennet's replies, but in time, the arguing stopped when Mrs Bennet mentioned the widower's name. Elizabeth feared that maybe her mother had convinced her father to approach him in view of marrying her.

Elizabeth knew what she had to do. She raced up to her room, where Jane was sitting waiting. Elizabeth, still gasping from running up the stairs, told Jane that Mama and Papa are thinking of marrying her to Mr Hunt, but she can not allow that to happen. Jane was upset that their parents would force marriage on any of their daughters, and particular a man that had been rejected by Papa and all the other fathers with marriageable daughters in the area. Elizabeth pulled down a bandbox from her wardrobe and, unceremoniously, emptied the contents onto her bed. Rapidly picking through what was there, she put her journal, a few small sentimental items and her jewellery back in the bandbox. Jane just stood there as Elizabeth started taking clothing from the wardrobe and throwing it onto the bed also. Only when Elizabeth started packing the clothes into the bandbox, did Jane realise that Elizabeth was planning on leaving. "Let me help", Jane said and assisted by folding the dresses Elizabeth had picked out. It didn't take long before the bandbox was full, but a number of items were still lying on the bed.

"I won't be a moment, Lizzie", said Jane as she left the room. Not much later Jane returned, with her own bandbox, empty as well. Jane pick up a couple more pairs of boots from Elizabeth's wardrobe and, as she placed them in the empty bandbox, said. "You can adjust second hand clothing, but you can't wear second-hand boots."

Elizabeth smiled sadly at Jane, knowing that this was goodbye. Jane then held out her hand holding a small purse and said. "Here Lizzie, you will need this far more than I". Both Jane and Elizabeth knew once Elizabeth she left she would not be able to come back for a long while, if ever, and in all likelihood, Jane would not be allowed to go to see her.

Acting as nothing unusual was happening, the sisters packed what little of Elizabeth's belongings could fit into two bandboxes. Once done, Jane looked out the door, saw that no one was around and gestured for Elizabeth to follow. The both tiptoed through the upstairs hallway and down the servant's stairs at the back of the house. At the back door, Elizabeth turned to Jane, gave her a hug and said, "Goodbye, dearest Jane. I will try to write to you when I arrive at wherever I end up. I will be asking Aunt Gardener to find me a place to stay once I get to London." Both were crying silently as Elizabeth took the second band box from Jane's hands and walked off into the little park at the back of the house, which had a path that led the road to Meryton, but at a point that was out of sight of Longbourn.

Jane stood there well after Elizabeth was out of sight. How she wished that things had been different. Jane was certain that given just a bit more time it would have been. Struggling to hold back actual sobs, Jane returned upstairs, tidied up Elizabeth's room then closed the door. She then went to her room, tidied up the pile on her bed as well, then sat in the dresser chair she'd moved to the window for the longest time just looking out, thinking about what the future will bring.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth walked away from Longbourn, briskly at first, then as the realisation of exactly what she was doing sank in, she was slowed as she found it difficult to see through her tears. After covering about half the distance to Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth realised she had to be strong, so choking back her tears and gathering herself up, she strolled off briskly again. Stopping just before Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth put both bandboxes behind a clump of trees and, wiping her face, snuck around to the back door and asked to see Charlotte.<p>

When Charlotte came out, Elizabeth gestured towards where she had left her luggage. After greeting each other, they talked about trivial matters until they reached the luggage. Charlotte looked a little surprised, but not shocked.

"What happened?" She asked Elizabeth, looking directly at the bandboxes.

"Mother and Father said they would have me married inside a month, and if they can find no one else, it will be Mr Hunt!"

"Oh Lord, I understand now."

"It does not matter, whoever they found, I will not be forced into marriage. I will be walking to Kimpton, and from there catching the stage to London. I hope the Aunt Gardener has been able to find me a family to stay with."

"Do you have the fare?"

"Yes, I have enough, and Jane gave me something. Here I'll just check". Elizabeth opened the purse Jane gave her, to discover a veritable fortune. "Gosh, I did not realise Jane had all this, she was lucky Lydia did not find it". Elizabeth was tearing up again over how generous she had been, Jane must have been saving almost all the money she had been given over several years.

Charlotte looked at the ground, deep in thought. She then looked up smiling at Elizabeth, "Meet me at the corner of Potters Lane, I'll be there in about twenty minutes." She then turn and ran back to the house.

Elizabeth picked up her luggage and walked back down the road to Meryton to Potters Lane. Putting her bandboxes behind the hedge sat on a nearby style to wait. It was a bit over twenty minutes, and Elizabeth started worrying, when Charlotte appeared driving the Lucas's gig. "Here, father doesn't know I have hitched up the gig, but this will save you the walk and, if you have missed the stage at Kimptom, I can take you to St Albans instead." Grinning madly, "Come on, hop in."

The trip was spent rather cheerfully for a farewell, but the impishness of Charlotte taking the gig without asking for an 'escape' trip to Kimpton or even St Albans, prompted their mood. That this was the last time they would see each other for a long time, made the time bittersweet. They made good time arriving in Kimpton early afternoon, with only half an hour until the next London stage was due, which was a Mail Coach. Charlotte hugged Elizabeth goodbye, but before letting her down, gave her a purse as well telling her to take it although it is not as much as Jane's but you will need it. Elizabeth tried to refuse, but Charlotte insisted saying if you don't need it, spend it on something for the baby from 'Aunt' Charlotte. Charlotte did not wait with Elizabeth, but with tears in her eyes, waved a final goodbye and headed home.

Elizabeth stood there waving as she watched the last connection to her old life diminish in size until it was just a dot on the road and then faded from sight. Not long after, the Mail Coach arrived. Elizabeth was able to secure a seat inside, when one of the gentlemen travelling inside offered her his seat while he sat up top. The Mail always made good time, and so, before midnight, Elizabeth was in London. A hansom cab ride later Elizabeth was standing on the Gardener's front step holding her bandboxes uncertain of her reception.

The Gardener's seemed unsurprised to see Elizabeth, and after the usual greetings, Mrs Gardener took Elizabeth into the parlour. After serving refreshments, Mrs Gardener commented. "You must have received the request, which is good, but I did not expect you quite so soon, but I am glad you are here now."

Elizabeth was puzzled, what letter were they talking about, and then it struck her, she had got a letter that morning, but with everything that happened, she had not even looked at it. Pulling it out of her pocket unopened, Elizabeth showed it to her Aunt asking "This letter?"

"Is it from the Carmichael's?"

Elizabeth looked at the senders address, "Yes it appears so".

"But you have not read it?" Now Mrs Gardener was extremely puzzled, why was her niece here if not in response to the letter's request for help?

"No. I am too tired to read it, do you know what it says?"

"Yes, it was a request to your parents to allow you to come stay with the Carmichaels for about a year to assist with their children. Is that not good?" Mrs Gardener examined her niece's reaction, but rather than pleasure or even relief, Elizabeth's only response was a haggard face and a wry smile that quickly disappeared.

Mrs Gardener asked "If not here because of their letter, what did your father say or do to cause you to flee to London? It can't be due to your mother's indiscretion or you would have been here a lot earlier."

Elizabeth, helped along by pertinent questions from her aunt, explained everything that had been said or done since her father returned home, and what she thought he and her mother together had planned. She downplayed how much Jane had helped and left out completely Charlotte's role in getting to Kimpton.

Mrs Gardener could see how her brother-in-law could take the easy option of passing the 'problem of Elizabeth' onto another by marrying her to any man that would accept the situation, regardless of the groom's suitability. And he would do it with his wife's complete approbation. In fact she would probably more enthusiastic about it than he was. Mrs Gardener was ever so glad that her husband was so very different that his sisters. Knowing why Elizabeth had chosen to leave, Mrs Gardener said that they would talk again in the morning and took Elizabeth to the guest room for some welcome sleep.

The next morning the three of them sat in Mr Gardener's study. After bringing him up to date, Mr and Mrs Gardener made suggestions for Elizabeth immediate future. She agreed to everything other than writing to her parents to let them know she was safe and where she was. Elizabeth begged that they do not tell her parents anything just yet, but she promised she would write to let them know she was safe soon. Reluctantly they agreed.


	11. Part 1, Ingenue: Chapter 11

**Part 1 – Ingénue - Chapter 11**

Mr and Mrs Bennet's argument turned to a discussion, which came to an agreement and finally, a collaboration between the two. Eventually concluding after nearly two hours, it left Mr Bennet with a short list of potential husbands for his wayward daughter for him to visit in order of desirability, thanks to his wife's extensive knowledge of all the potential suitors in the local area. Given time was short, he left immediately afterwards to the distasteful task of somehow convincing one of them to consider marrying his Lizzie.

The first two he visited Mrs Bennet had stressed were very desirable and Mr Bennet should go as far as begging them on bended knee to consider his proposal. Mr Bennet's pride was not going to bend quite that far, but he did make an impassioned plea on Elizabeth's behalf. But it was pointed out to him, after he tried to list his daughter's good points that it would be very foolish to marry a woman that was known to be unfaithful before marriage and also to risk their heir being the natural son of another, unknown man. After the second such rebuff, Mr Bennet felt a great deal of mortification, but as marriage would restore some of his daughter's tattered reputation, so her persevered.

He was not able to talk to the third person or even their father, but was able to get an "I'll think about it" from Mr Prescott, the fourth on his list. Mr Bennet thought Prescott would come around if, after giving him a few days to think on it, Mr Bennet the substantially increased Elizabeth's portion, as it was well known Prescott needed money to improve his farm and he already had an heir from his previous marriage. While taking money from the other girl's portions was not desirable, as their portions were not large to start with, Mr Bennet resigned himself to it because if Elizabeth did not get married, none of the others would likely marry and need theirs at all.

Thinking his job was done, or damn near to it, Mr Bennet felt he could return home and try to reconcile Elizabeth to the possibility of becoming Mrs John Prescott. As the wife of a well off farmer, she would not have an easy life, but it would come with a modicum of respectability. And, Mr Prescott was no Mr Hunt, something he would take pains to point out to her. So, sore from being in the saddle all afternoon, and discombobulated from having to grovel to those somewhat beneath him, Mr Bennet went upstairs to talk to Elizabeth. When he found that she was had not stayed in her room as she had been instructed, he became angry. After being told that not only was Miss Lizzie not to be found anywhere in the house, her bandbox and some of her clothes and shoes were gone, Mr Bennet flew into a rage. How dare the daughter, whose reputation he had spent a very wearisome afternoon trying to salvage, disobey him and run off.

When a very meek Hannah came to see him to tell him about a letter that Elizabeth had been told about so she could take it prior to Mr Bennet being given all the mail, Hannah got such a dressing down she feared for her job. Hannah was questioned extensively about the letter, and was able to remember that the it came from London, but she didn't recognise the handwriting. Hannah agreed, when asked, that it might have been masculine hand. At this point Mr Bennet was no longer in any mood to indulge his eldest daughter's silence on the matter, so Jane was summoned to attend him in the library, at once!

This time, Mr Bennet informed Jane that it appeared that Elizabeth had run away – her lack of surprise confirmed that she knew already and probably helped – and that event meant his promise not to ask her any more questions was no longer valid. He now insisted on Jane telling him everything, but most specifically the name of the baby's father. Mrs Bennet had entered the Library by this stage, drawn by Mr Bennet's shouting. When Jane refused to tell him again, he gave her such a lecture that she was tears and visibly shaken before he was more than half way through it. But the threat of caning (something he had never done before, thinking it too barbaric to inflict on a female), did not work, and nothing else he threaten did either. Then Mr Bennet's had a sudden stroke of inspiration, if Jane would not say who the father was so that her father could force him to marry Elizabeth, even after such threats, Jane must dislike him as intensely as Elizabeth appeared to have done. There was only one person he could think of that fit that bill – Viscount Sumerville!

Changing tact, he told Jane he knew it was the Viscount Sumerville. Jane was a naturally honest person, so was not able to hide her reaction when Mr Bennet mentioned his name. With Jane's reaction appearing to confirm his suspicions he carried on to ask about the letter. Once again Jane did not tell him anything. Not realising that she actually knew nothing, he concluded the letter was from Viscount Sumerville. Mr Benne then assumed the Viscount had made up to Lizzie after whatever lover's spat caused the pair of them to give him the cut direct (assuming jealousy of Elizabeth's success the reason behind Jane's dislike of him). That the letter could be offering marriage was discarded given he was a peer and she was now a fallen woman. So it was an offer of carte-blanche, i.e. she would be installed in a house as his mistress. The offer was probably sweetened with offers of money, jewellery and fine clothes. Jane was once again asked for the address on the letter, or the address written in it as Mr Bennet was convinced that must be the address that Elizabeth had run off to. Unless Jane could deny it?

Jane could not think of any way to counter her father's erroneous conclusion, as she herself did not know who had sent the letter or its content. Bringing up that Elizabeth had been corresponding with their Aunt for weeks before either her mother or father found out and her Aunt was looking for a solution that would have prevented her parents finding out at all, would only get herself and then by implication her Aunt Gardener in a lot of trouble. Mrs Bennet, who was already on the way to believe the worst of Elizabeth, agreed with this conclusion, and add a number of embellishments on Elizabeth's probable actions as a confirmed courtesan.

Jane tried to defend Elizabeth's character against such slander, but was harshly silenced by her father. Mr Bennet by this stage was wishing Elizabeth, who had been his favourite daughter up until a few days ago, to the devil. Jane felt completely helpless against such a profession of hate and loathing. Mrs Bennet then twisted the knife further by commenting that Jane's beauty would not save her this time, and that she will remember her eldest's treachery for a long time. When Mr Bennet nodded in agreement, Jane felt completely abandoned. Discovering that nothing could make Jane be forthcoming about the address Elizabeth was heading for, Mr Bennet stated that he would have to go to London to sort it out with the Viscount himself. Jane was ordered to her room to stay there for at least the time he was away, and after that she was unlikely to participate in any form of social activity for the foreseeable future.

As Jane left to go upstairs to start her punishment, she heard Mrs Bennet plead with Mr. Bennet not to go and fight Viscount Sumerville. She wailed that they will meet in a field and then he will be killed, and what would then to become of us that are left? Mr Collins will turn us out before Mr Bennet is cold in his grave, and it will be all that Lizzie's fault.

* * *

><p>So for the second time that day Mr Bennet found himself travelling on the road between Longbourn and London in a hired carriage, just in the opposite direction. A hired couch with jobbing horses could not make the journey at the same speed of a Mail Coach, so he was once again force to spend the night in an inn, before continuing his trip in the morning. He left Longbourn in a foul mood, and the trip just added to his feeling of being ill-used by both of his ungrateful and stubborn daughters. Thus he arrived in London in the foulest mood he had even been in.<p>

Leaving the hired carriage at the depot, he hailed a hansom cab to take him to the Earl of Matlock's residence. On arrival, he brooked no impediment to his admittance and demanded to talk with the Viscount Sumerville. The butler and footmen were attempting to keep him from going up the stairs to the private part of the house when the Viscount appeared.

Mr Bennet was ushered into a public parlour, just off from the entrance hall. He wasted no time in demanding to see his daughter, who Mr Bennet informed the Viscount, was hiding on the premises. Viscount Sumerville, not having met Mr Bennet, had no idea who his daughter was and so stated "I am only too happy to have Haversham call all the maids to assemble in the back hall so that you can see there are no fugitives on the Matlock staff."

Sumerville's caviller treatment made Mr Bennet even more irate, and yelled back, "I will not be treated in such a manner. Do you know who I am?"

To which Sumerville could honestly reply "No, not in the slightest. Are sure you want the Matlock residence? Could your daughter be in service in another house?"

"I will not be spoken to in this way. I am Mr Bennet. I am a gentleman with an estate in Hertfordshire. I know you are harbouring my daughter Elizabeth Bennet, and if she is not here, you've set her up with your carte-blanche somewhere else in London."

"Well I certainly couldn't tell you were a gentleman from the way you have been acting."

Mr Bennet bristled at this off-hand insult, but was too wound up to reply immediately, so Sumerville was able to continue to rub salt in the wound. "I remember your daughter, she and her sister cut me at the Fenwick ball. She my lady-bird, not on your life! She's too plain and sharp tongued for me." Sumerville leaned against the fireplace, enjoying the sport Mr Bennet was providing. Mr Bennet was incandescent with rage and more or less incapable of speech. This allowed the Viscount to inflame the situation further; "Although if you are offering daughters, your eldest is beautiful enough to consider offering carte-blanche to, is she free?"

Thankfully for both men the Earl of Matlock, who had been in his study, was informed of the visitor to his son, heard their interchange as he walked from his study into the parlour and so hurried somewhat. Mr Bennet looked about ready to assault his son. With a commanding "What in heaven's name is going on in here!" the Earl was able to stop both Mr Bennet attacking his son and his son from provoking his visitor further.

Both protagonists tried to answer at once, but the Earl silenced his son with a look. Starting again, he turned to his sons 'guest' and said "I am the Earl of Matlock. Who are you and why have you entered my house to cause such a ruckus?"

"I am Mr Bennet, esquire, of Longbourn, Hertfordshire. Your son has offered my daughter his carte-blanche and that convinced her to run away to London. Elizabeth is either hiding here, or he has already put her up elsewhere, as she is carrying his natural child. I demand that he make an honest woman out of her."

"So is this true, son?"

"Of course not, I could give this man the names of several men who have sampled the charms of his daughter, any one of which would be the father, but I will not give him the satisfaction since he accused ME of it." But he did not look that sincere in his denials.

Mr Bennet gave a bitter laugh, "Listen to your young pup try to brazenly lie his way out of his responsibility, he won't give the other names because there are no others, my daughters actions at the Fenwick ball prove it – obviously the result of a lover's tiff. But son, you play the tune, you have to pay the piper, and I have come to collect the dues."

Sumerville was about to refute this, but was once again silenced by a glare from his father. The Earl turned to Mr Bennet again. "I sympathise with a father who has found his daughter in her situation. If my son is the cause of her misfortune, I will not have it said that the Matlock's will not act honourably. But all I have heard is words, what proof do you have that my son and your daughter are lovers, let alone the child being his."

"Your son wrote my daughter a letter recently, setting up their reconciliation. That is what bought her to London, and he is hiding her from her family."

"I will be the judge of that." Turning to his son, he asked. "Did you write this letter?"

Sumerville looked unaware of a letter, "No of course not, I had little to do with the younger sister. I admit I had a pleasant flirtation with Jane, the elder sister, but she took more out of it than I offered. When I let her know it was just flirtation, she and her sister took a pet and cut me at Fenwick's ball, very bad ton by them, their mother should have schooled them better."

"Enough of that son. Just the facts." Turning back towards Mr Bennet, the Earl continued, "There my son denies it. Let me see this letter and I will be the judge of whether or not my son wrote it."

"I cannot, she took it with her when she quit the house."

Sumerville laughed and started walking out of the room. He tried to have the last word "So, old man, on the basis of nothing but unfounded accusations, you think I will marry your hoyden of a daughter. If this is how well you mind your daughters, are you sure your other daughter is not with child as well?"

Mr Bennet started to reply, but the Earl held up his hand, and said to the Viscount. "That is enough, apologise to Mr Bennet."

Sumerville smirked, "Mr Bennet, I am truly sorry some rake knocked up your slut of a daughter."

"What!" Mr Bennet, stepped towards the Viscount.

"Henry! That is more than enough! Apologise. Now. Properly." The Earl glared, sending the unspoken message that he had stepped well over the live with that comment.

"Sorry father." He turned, bowed and then grudgingly said, "Mr Bennet I apologise unreservedly, it must be a difficult time for you, but I cannot help you in this case."

Mr Bennet accepted this apology with a nod. The Earl then put the other question to his son, "Thank you Henry. Now to the other matter, is his daughter in our house?"

"No father, nor do I have any idea where she is, I have not seen or communicated with her since she caused that disaster at the Fenwick's ball, on my honour as a gentleman." At that point Sumerville made his escape.

The Earl then gestured to Mr Bennet to sit, and then did so himself. "I also apologise for my son's comments, I will deal with him later. But I am in a difficult position. I also need to protect my son from those that would think of trapping such an eligible gentleman into marriage. I hear your accusations, but you talk of a letter my son denies writing and you cannot produce it... No, no, let me finish... You say your daughter is with child, but she did not come with you to press her case, with your support. While I do not believe you to be lying, a girl that is sly enough to land in this trouble without her parents being able to intervene in time, could easily lie about the father of the child as well. Examine all you know, she may have deceived you as to who her actual lover is, by misdirection, but there will a clue there somewhere. So until you have more substantial proof I shall have to leave."

"I will get that proof and return."

"I will instruct the butler to admit you to my study if you return, but I truly believe that your daughter has played you false. But hear me well. If these accusations are made public without you bringing proof to me first, I will sue you for slander, and ask in enough in damages to send you into debtor's prison for the rest of your life. Good day, sir."

Knowing he was dismissed, and unable to prove his case in any way, a very angry, but dejected Mr Bennet left. Thinking back on the whole sequence of events, Mr Bennet's experience told him that the Viscount denials of being the father were insincere, but he was genuine when he said he did not know where she was at the moment or even the Elizabeth was in London at all. But that did not mean the letter did not say where to go. As for swearing on his honour, Mr Bennet could tell he was no gentleman, so his oath meant nothing. He was sure the Viscount said it that way intending the same. If Elizabeth had not gone directly to the Viscount's love nest, she could have only gone to the Gardener's, probably spinning some tale to allow them to let her stay while she let her lover know she was in London – inadvertently Mr Bennet realised he had done it himself – so he could make the arrangements he had suggested in his letter. Catching another hansom cab, Mr Bennet set off to the Gardener's, sure to find his wayward daughter there.

After Mr Bennet was escorted out, the Earl went back to his study and summoned his son. When Sumerville arrived, the Earl confronted his son. Not giving him pause, as he closes the door, the Earl takes the offensive, "Do not deny it, whatever you said to Mr Bennet, I know you are the father. I know you too well. And that excuse for the cut direct will not hold water. Young ladies, given the opportunity to take part in events well above them socially do not ruin it all over a petty quarrel, you must have severely injured them. Making up to one while seducing the other would be more than enough provocation. Your reputation, while never being too bad, took a real hit with that – those that think have come to the same conclusion I have, you must have done something really bad to have caused it"

Sumerville replied, "Whatever Mr Bennet and his daughter said they cannot prove it. Mr Bennet cannot even prove I was the only one that lay with her. Given her adventurous nature, while I was the first, she surrendered her virtue only after a very few encounters, so I doubt I was the last. I do not think I am the father."

"Whether you doubt you were her only liaison, you have admitted you were her first. I am not so sure she would lain with others as you are. While we will not do anything on unproven accusations, if he brings her here, and in my presence she confirms you are the father, that to me will be proof enough, and you will marry her. Swear on our good name you will do so. Now!"

"But father..."

"No Henry, you will accede to my conditions and swear to them or I will cut off your allowance for good, starting from today. I will accept no refusal."

Sumerville looked at his father, but did nothing, testing the Earl's resolve.

"I am waiting..."

Sumerville conceded and swore as his father had asked. Acting blasé like this was another ordinary day, he thanked his father and backed out of the library. An anything but blasé Viscount Sumerville was found a few minutes later swearing like a sailor and frantically packing, having decided to rusticate in Norfolk. Out of sight thus out of mind was his best option for dealing with his father for the next few weeks.

* * *

><p>Mr Bennet strode forcefully up the front stairs of the Gardener's and went in without waiting for someone to answer the door. Mr Gardener was the first into the hallway, as his was study close to the front door, followed only a few moments later when Mrs Gardener and Elizabeth exited from the parlour.<p>

"Lizzie, I've been to see your lover. He's not the shining knight you take him for. In fact he was callous and unfeeling, called you a hoyden and a slut."

His audience was shocked at this incredibly rude entrance. Mr Gardener gestured for Mr Bennet to at least go into the semi-privacy of the parlour, but Mr Bennet was not having a moment of it.

"Well Lizzie? Cat got your tongue? Hand me his letter and that proof will at least get you a husband out of this disaster, even one that has only contempt for you. But I suppose you will see his wealth and position as fair compensation."

For Elizabeth, already very upset from her father's opening statement, this vitriolic attack was too much. She fled crying back into the parlour.

"Thomas, what cause have you to enter my house and fling such disgusting accusations at your own daughter? Who is this lover? What is this letter you talk about?" Mr Gardener moved to protect his wife. Mrs Gardener had moved to block the door to the parlour and by implication her niece as well.

"The letter from her lover, the Viscount Sumerville that arrived only yesterday, offering her carte-blanche and summoning her to London. Don't tell me she has fooled you with a pack of lies, disguising her true purpose."

Mr Gardener looked puzzled, but his wife touched him on his back, letting him know that she would be able to deal with this. She stood up to an irate Mr Bennet and calmly and evenly said, "Thomas, I will not let you continue this in the hall. If you want to know the true story, not whatever maggot you have got in your brain, you will calm down and come into the parlour like the civilised person I know you are." She gestured for him to follow and went into the parlour herself. Mr Bennet stood there a moment, before taking a few deep breaths and following. Mr Gardener came in last and shut the door behind him.

Mrs Gardener went over to Elizabeth, and hugging her in comfort, said quietly. "Lizzie, dear, can you give me the Carmichael's letter?"

Elizabeth nodded, fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the letter in question.

Mrs Gardener handed the letter to Mr Bennet. "Here is the letter Lizzie received yesterday. She had not read it until she arrived here, late last night. She fled Longbourn because you choose to inform her that you intend to force her into marriage, very likely to a man that possibly murdered his first wife, or at the least caused her to take her own life."

Mr Bennet took the letter and examined it. While he was doing this, Mrs Gardener continued, "Elizabeth has made a very foolish mistake, but we had been working to provide the best solution possible for her. That letter is from friends of ours, willing to have Elizabeth stay with them through her confinement and a while after the birth. Yet all you have done is compound a foolish decision on her part with a disastrous one of your own. Then when your plans seem to fall apart all you do is race to London to accuse your own daughter of all manner of evil. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Seeing that everything his sister-in-law had said about the letter was true, Mr Bennet realised there would be no written proof, and knowing Elizabeth's nature she would deny Viscount Sumerville was the father to the Earl. He would be made a laughing stock. His desires, his plans thwarted, his relationship with his favourite daughter forever ruined. Mr Bennet was incapable of seeing that a great deal of the blame could be his own actions. Thus he lashed out at those that he thought had contributed to Elizabeth's actions.

He castigated his sister-in-law from hiding her assistance of his daughter from him, not accepting that she had only done so reluctantly since Elizabeth had begged her not to, and had been made to promise to tell him, but in her own time. He then even turned their hospitality to him on its head, accusing his sister-in-law of keeping him in London so Elizabeth could hide from him. At this point, Mr Gardener stepped in to defend his wife, and the argument between the two men grew ever more acrimonious. Mr Bennet started including old grievances, long consider resolved into his arguments, while continuing to fling unsubstantiated accusations about the two ladies.

Before too long Mr Bennet was yelling at his brother-in-law and Mr Gardener was slowly losing his composure. Mr Bennet looked close to resorting to physical violence to make his point. Elizabeth was terrified, she had never seen these two men at the height of their temper before. Mrs Gardener noticed that Mr Bennet was totally focused on her husband at the moment and prudently hustled Elizabeth out of the parlour. While the argument continued, Mrs Gardener gestured from behind Mr Bennet that she and Elizabeth were going out and will not be back until Mr Bennet had gone.

Mr Gardener then antagonised Mr Bennet deliberately so he would not notice their departure. Once he thought he had given his wife and niece enough time to leave the vicinity, he stopped arguing and just stood there saying nothing until Mr Bennet ran out of steam. Once they had reached that point Mr Gardener told Mr Bennet, in no uncertain terms, that he desired him to leave his house forthwith. Mr Bennet refused to go without his daughter, but as Mr Gardener said that she had already left, he better leave quickly otherwise he would not be able to find her.

* * *

><p>Thwarted at every turn a very angry but also dejected Mr Bennet, once again made the trip from London to Longbourn. Although this time he left early enough that he got back home without having to stay in an inn for the night. When he returned without his daughter, Mrs Bennet abused him for his inadequacies as a father. Unsurprising, this caused a ferocious argument that led to the two of them refusing to speak to each other for weeks. In fact about the only thing that they seemed to agree on over that time was imposing harsh punishment on Jane for her role in the recent events. Jane accepted every punishment imposed on her with her usual good grace, which only antagonised Mrs Bennet more. But when Mrs Phillips started mentioning that their treatment of Jane was being gossiped about in Meryton, she had to accept that Jane had been more than punished for even the imagined sins.<p>

As Elizabeth's actions had pretty much destroyed Mrs Bennet dreams of making good marriages for all her daughters, she was extremely bitter. Her letters to Elizabeth were full of vitriol. The worst of it was particularly vicious and designed specifically to provoke guilt as Mrs Bennet enumerated in each letter all the punishments that she wanted to impose on Elizabeth for her sins, but inflicted on Jane due to Elizabeth's absence. Elizabeth kept reading these hoping that there could be some reconciliation with her mother, but they kept getting worse not better, reducing her to tears each and every time.

The younger Bennet sisters were also being poisoned against Elizabeth and against Jane by implication. This also came out in the sisters frequent letters. Mrs Bennet ensured they wrote regularly, but as it was as a punishment and any letter written had to be repeated until Mrs Bennet was happy with the content, this explained the nature of the contents. After several month of these the Gardener's started returning, unopened any letter from Longbourn not from Jane. In retaliation, Mrs Bennet prevented Jane from writing to Elizabeth. Correspondence between the Bennets and the Gardeners effectively ended. Mr Bennet seemed to have put the entire events behind him and carried on as if nothing had happened, and ceased to have any interest in his family's day to day activities.

* * *

><p>With the everything that had gone on, and her current situation so unresolved, Elizabeth had an unsettled pregnancy and suffered bouts of depression and hopelessness. Thankfully, her physical health remained good, and even in the depths of depression, she could always be convinced to eat, if only for the sake of the unborn child. She accepted a chaperone on her frequent long walks, but the maid was also a fast walker, who enjoyed the time from having to do chores, they were not the unpleasant experience from her first time in London.<p>

She stayed with the Gardeners the entire time. The Carmichaels stood behind their invitation, but understood the need for it was over, but did take particular interest in their adopted neice, her health and emotional wellbeing.

Towards the end of her pregnancy, Jane was given a small amount of freedom, and was able to send and receive letters via Charlotte, which gave Elizabeth enormous comfort. Jane's letters were always uplifting and made no mention of any of the tribulations that had been inflicted on her by her mother. Jan appear completely free of bitterness or recriminations on how Elizabeth's actions had affected Jane now and her future.

* * *

><p>Amy-Jane Charlotte was born early February 1807. Elizabeth's choice of the names Jane and Charlotte were obvious. Amy or 'ami' was Latin for beloved, so Amy-Jane Charlotte meant 'Beloved Jane, Charlotte", something Elizabeth felt was very appropriate for her daughter. Charlotte had been able to come to London, supposedly for an unrelated reason, but in all reality to be with Elizabeth during her labour. Thus Charlotte was able to stand as godmother to her namesake and a very proud godmother she was too. Mr Carmichael was asked and accepted, with alacrity, the role of godfather.<p>

Elizabeth took to being mother extremely well. Her whole future was wrapped up in this small baby, and the love for Amy-Jane was able to drive out any of negative emotions towards her parents and sisters that had been gaining a foothold in her heart. When Amy-Jane was 6 months old, and the most dangerous period over, Elizabeth moved to Ramsgate to live with Mrs Carter, Mrs Gardener's mother, who retired there from Lambton, when Mr Carter passed away in 1802.

Mr Bennet was coerced to provide Elizabeth's portion of one thousand pounds, but in return he required her to cease to use the name Bennet before he would agree. Paying Elizabeth set back the fragile truce between Mr and Mrs Bennet a good deal as she did not want Elizabeth to get anything, ever. The potion was to provide a barely adequate annual income of fifty pounds when invested in the consuls at five percent. However as Mr Gardener took on 'investing it' on her behalf, she was always able to receive at least double the usual rate of return. She knew that the Gardeners were topping it up with money of their own, but chose not to make a big deal of it.

* * *

><p>Thus 'Miss Smith' and her daughter came to live in a small seaside town in the south east coast of England. Elizabeth chose to identify herself as an unmarried mother rather than pretending to be a widow, as she felt she had to take responsibility for her actions. The stigmatism of being an unmarried mother was part of that. It also meant Amy-Jane did not grow up with her mother living a lie or hold false hopes about her father.<p>

Elizabeth recovered emotionally over time, having a baby that was totally dependent on her certainly sped up this recovery, and her sociable nature and quick wit reappeared. Elizabeth, even though often a bit ruffled and sometimes looking fairly haggard, was still an attractive woman, and she had her share of admirers. However, she did not every feel anything other than friendship towards any of them. She even received several offers of marriage, but refused each as they were obviously based on friendship and comfort not love. The most tempting offer she turned down was from Mr Hawker, the local farrier. A friend before his offer, became a very good friend after being refused gently.

There were those that thought an acknowledged unmarried mother was obviously available for liaisons, but they were put firmly in their place. A couple of times when the 'gentleman' refused to accept no as an answer, Mr Hawker, who was an extremely imposing figure, was able to show them the error of their ways.

Within a few years, the locals thought nothing of Elizabeth's supposed improper status, and she was treated as a gentlewoman, if an impoverished one. It was common for Elizabeth to find extra food or other items in her purchases, or small things left on Mrs Carter's doorstep. Initially she tried to either return or pay for them, but as the shopkeepers denied ever placing the extra items in her shopping and no one owned up to delivering the items left at the door, Elizabeth ended up having to accept the kindness of her neighbours.

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><p><strong>End of Part One<strong>**.**

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**As with any author I love to read your reviews.**

**To help me improve my writing, now you've finished all of Part 1, could you answer:**  
><strong> - What parts did you most enjoy?<strong>  
><strong> - Was there any parts you didnt like, or think out of place?<strong>  
><strong> - Was there any parts you thought "what was that about"?<strong>  
><strong> - Do the various characters seem to be as you imgine them to be from P&amp;P?<strong>

****Plus one to answer for Part 2:**  
><strong> - How do you think Darcy and Elizabeth will meet?<strong>**


	12. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 1

**Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 1**

**1810 – Five years later**

Jane sat watching her cousins (the Gardener's three children) playing in the park, thinking about how her 22nd birthday, held only a few weeks ago with Elizabeth, Amy-Jane and Charlotte was so different than the last four before that. Seeing that her cousins were fine, in the care of their nurse, she allowed herself to reminisce:

* * *

><p><strong>1806 <strong>- Jane's 18th birthday was only a month and a bit after Elizabeth fled to London. As Jane was held culpable in assisting Elizabeth to deliberately disobey them, both Mrs Bennet deliberately chose to do nothing for it as yet another punishment. This was also the reason that Jane had not been allowed to leave the environs of Longbourn. With the scandal still fresh in everyone's minds, the Bennet's had few visitors, even Mrs Phillips did not visit frequently. Several of Jane's friends came to Longbourn but were told by Mrs Bennet that Jane was ill today and not receiving visitors.

Mr Bennet did remember her birthday. He asked Jane to come to his library about mid afternoon, but his birthday wishes was somewhat spoiled by being preceded by a lecture about honouring your parents and the value of honesty and obedience.

Mary did give Jane a gift, but it was something that Jane knew she had made a few months ago, and was handed over most reluctantly with a moralistic statement about rejection of the immoral rather than birthday good wishes. Lydia, who followed her mother in almost everything, ignored it Jane completely that day. It was Kitty that surprised Jane.

When Jane was sent to her room early evening, as was usual at that time, Kitty snuck upstairs with a cake and a few other treats on a tray. Kitty tried to create a birthday celebration with just the two of them, but with only partial success. It was a very bittersweet evening, but Kitty's kindness made Jane feel less abandoned and more able to face each new day in the company of only her family and the few servants at Longbourn.

Once Kitty had left, Jane pulled out the battered chest that had replaced the bandboxes that Elizabeth had taken with her. In it were her own personal items, plus all the sentimental items that Elizabeth had tipped out on her bed, but chose not to take when she fled to London. As Jane went through them, the good memories associated with each came to mind and her eyes filled with tears. It was apparent how intertwined the two sister's lives had been as, for almost every item of Elizabeth's, Jane could remember the story behind keeping it. It was an emotionally drained Jane that cried herself to sleep that night.

* * *

><p><strong>1807 <strong>- The passing of a year had partly restored the Bennet's position in the local society. It took Mrs Bennet a long time to realise that by not complaining about Elizabeth to all and sundry, the inhabitants of Meryton would start forgetting about the scandal she had caused. Unfortunately during this time of social isolation the Long's had replaced them as the preeminent local family, a position the Bennet's never regained.

Jane's 19th birthday was celebrated with a family occasion, rather than the big social event that Lydia's birthday was only 2 months ago. This was mainly because Mrs Bennet was still fairly bitter towards Jane and also treated her as proxy for Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet acted the proud mother, but as the evening's celebration was only family, the compliments or pleasant comments Jane received was countered by the occasional insult to Elizabeth. These still got to Jane, and she was sure her mother knew it.

Lydia more or less made herself the centre of attention, even though it was her sister's birthday, by her immature antics. In many ways these were aided and abetted by her mother. Besides being loud and brash, she was rude about Jane or Elizabeth, but knew her mother would not pull her up about it.

Mary's moralising had only gotten worse over the last year but Lydia's behaviour was starting to draw most of Mary's censure, as Mary had said everything possible she could about Elizabeth's situation and even Mary was growing tired of repeating herself. Mary had become more and more censorious of everything and everyone. She even argued theology with her father at the dinner table, siding with the Puritans and Methodists against the distinctly Anglican orthodoxy he learnt when he got his degree from Oxford.

Kitty was still, quietly, on Jane's side. But Kitty was censured every time she supported Jane so she tried to change the subject whenever Lydia or her mother were at their worst rather than actively objecting. Over the last year Kitty, who in the past usually followed Lydia, spent more time on her own and less with her younger sister. While Jane and Kitty became closer in this time, they were too far apart in age and maturity to develop the sort of relationship that Jane and Elizabeth had.

Mr Bennet attended dinner for the first time in weeks. Initially Jane was pleased but as the meal progressed she felt that it probably would have been more enjoyable without him. Whenever he was not arguing theology with Mary, he treated the dinner as an opportunity to practice his sardonic wit at his family's expense.

While Jane did get gifts from her family, Jane's favourite gift was what Charlotte bought with her when she visited. Besides giving Jane a lovely shawl, Charlotte brought with her a many page letter from Elizabeth - all about her new life in Ramsgate and all sorts of details about Amy-Jane. That night Jane retired early, not that she had to any more, but this time she wanted to read and reread Elizabeth's letter. Unbeknownst to the rest of her family, Jane then stayed up until nearly dawn writing a reply, although nowhere near as long, as little had changed for her, and the longer Elizabeth was away from Longbourn the gossip became less and less relevant or even understandable.

* * *

><p><strong>1808 <strong>- Jane's 20th birthday was another family affair, but with another sister gone just recently, it was a fairly subdued affair.

Mary had moved out just after Lydia's last birthday, which Mrs Bennet had arranged for it to be a big social occasion for the entire neighbourhood. Lydia (and thus Kitty, which was the order of things now) had been allowed to drink wine for the first time, and she had made a real cake of herself. Everyone was embarrassed but Lydia and Mrs Bennet who wrote it off as 'youthful high-jinks'.

The next day Mary had enough of 'living in a licentious and amoral family' and packed her clothes, a few bric-a-bracs and her music score and went to stay with the Phillips. Jane later found out that both her father and mother went to alternately browbeat or plead for her to return, but Mary was steadfast in refusing to return home. After about a month with the Phillips, Mary moved to Mr Phillips' brother in Manchester. They were strict, almost puritan, in belief and manner. Mary wrote very infrequently to her parents. The letters were full of moral strictures, but the little personal information in them showed she was much happier now.

For all of Mary's black and white view of life and morality, which Jane felt she had not yet to learn to temper with compassion, Jane missed her presence. Her comments were often annoying, sometimes longwinded and even, at times hurtful. But Jane could tell that Mary only said them because she truly cared, however misguided her concern seemed to be at the time. This was in stark contrast with the annoying and hurtful comments from Lydia who, quite obviously, didn't care, in fact took every opportunity to make herself look better at her sister's expense.

The dinner saw Mr Bennet take his place at the head of the table for the first time since Mary had moved out. Jane was worried about him, he looked years older. Her worry increased substantially when he remained silent, other than making requests for food. At the end of the meeting he rose, and after wishing Jane a happy birthday, walked slowly out of the room and back to his library.

Mrs Bennet seemed oblivious to the change in her husband's demeanour. Her focus was once again Lydia, although to a lesser degree Kitty as well. Jane, who should have been the focus of the evening's dinner, was almost completely overlooked by Mrs Bennet. Jane had gotten used to this treatment over the last few years, and in many ways, preferred it to the more antagonistic Mrs Bennet of earlier.

Lydia was Lydia. Jane had calmly and silently ignored any abuse Lydia heaped her way, and only ever responded with love and compassion to her youngest sister. That Lydia could not get Jane angry was seen by Lydia as a challenge, and she took any opportunity to provoke her, sometimes even in public. Tonight was no different, but as it was supposed to be Jane's special occasion, she tried particularly hard, to the point that even Mrs Bennet censured her for a comment that was well beyond anything acceptable.

Kitty found the whole evening distressing, It was difficult to try to walk a central path, not joining in to the abuse of Elizabeth, Jane and now Mary, but also shying away from defending them as this made her the target instead. Having always been slight and delicate, the emotional distress of the last few years had not been good for her health, which had started to suffer as the result. Jane found it distressing to see her sister slowly fading away before her eyes. In the end Kitty found it too much and fled in tears when she unconsciously defended Mary and got both barrels from Lydia and her mother. At that point Jane realised that she would have to do something, and vowed that she would do so by her next birthday.

Jane retired early as well. She popped into Kitty's bedroom to see how she was. Kitty was already asleep, still dressed. Jane roused her just enough to remove Kitty's shoes and get her out of her dress leaving her in her shift. Jane then tucked Kitty in, kissed her goodnight, blew out the candle and left. As she sat up re-reading the last letter from Elizabeth, she thought about Kitty's situation and what to do. While Jane had not come up with anything herself, she resolved to discuss it with Charlotte and write to Mrs Gardener before the week was out (via Charlotte as her letters to Elizabeth as well).

* * *

><p><strong>1809 <strong>- Jane's was dreading her 21st birthday celebration, she was looking forward to implementing the final part of the various plans set in motion since her last birthday.

It started by doing something for Kitty. In the few weeks following her previous birthday, Jane discussed with Kitty how Kitty was feeling, why she looked so drawn and tired and what her desires for the future were. Jane's assumption that Kitty found living at home upsetting was correct, and Kitty opened up to her eldest sister once she realised that Jane genuinely wanted the best for her. Kitty, being smaller and quieter in personality than her younger sister most of her life, and now feeling the lesser in her mother's attentions, Kitty wanted desperately to live away from Lydia. She didn't care where, as long as it was where she would be recognised for her herself not as a smaller, less alive version of her sister.

The round about way that Jane had to send letters to Mrs Gardener, the person she most trusted to give good advice, meant it was several months of circumspect correspondence before Mrs Gardener suggested something that Kitty and Jane felt that Mr and Mrs Bennet would agree to.

Mrs Durrant, Kitty's Godmother, was a childhood friend of Mrs Bennet. She had married a successful merchant from St Albans quite a bit later than her friend and so her three children were much younger, (only 8, 5 and 2). Jane was able to speak with Mrs Durrant her for some time when she visited for Kitty's 15th birthday, and mentioned her own fears for Kitty, and if Mrs Durrant could consider Kitty assisting her with her children. Sharing Jane's concern, Mrs Durrant readily agreed. Mr Bennet was easy to convince, as having "one less silly female underfoot" was something he could look forward to. Mrs Bennet took a bit of convincing, but was persuaded when Mr Bennet mentioned that Mrs Bennet's household budget was not being reduced by Kitty's departure, as the Durrant's only asked for a small allowance, they would provide for the rest of Kitty's needs.

Kitty left almost as soon as the arrangement was agreed to, but she did regularly visit, usually for a few days at a time. Once away from Longbourn, Kitty really blossomed as she was forced to be herself rather than a smaller copy of Lydia, and felt a valued part of her adoptive family. Kitty also developed her own independent fashion sense and had a much more ladylike deportment, all the result of Mrs Durrant's guidance. Jane looked across the birthday dinner table and smiled at Kitty, who smiled back, when she stood up for herself and refused to go along with something things that Lydia suggested that she did not think was proper. Jane hoped that in a larger town, and being associated with the Durrant's, Kitty would mostly escape the scandal attached to the Bennet sisters. Thus, Jane thought, given how Kitty had matured recently, she was the sister most likely to find true happiness in life. Maybe, thought Jane, I will end up as the favoured aunt for Kitty's children, rather than Elizabeth for mine.

Having been able to assist her second youngest sister find happiness, Jane turned her thoughts to Lydia. Mrs Bennet had encouraged Lydia to be as lively as possible, without much thought of the consequences. So Lydia, at only 14, had gained a reputation for being an outrageous flirt. Jane tried to demonstrate to Lydia that there were other ways to conduct yourself, but as her mother was still openly disparaging of her eldest daughter, Lydia pretty much ignored anything Jane did or said to her. After months, Jane felt that it would be best to think of her own future, rather than carry on with her futile attempts to show Lydia an alternative to her mother.

Jane found her current situation untenable. She was more beautiful now at 21 than she was at 17, and still commanded attention at the various local social events that she had recently been allowed to attend again. However, due to the Bennet scandal, the attention was much less desirable than before. Jane found it difficult to trust men in general, having been so badly deceived by the Viscount. It did not help that a certain type of gentleman seemed to think, once they found out about Elizabeth, that Jane was open to offers of casual liaisons, some of whom were very persistent regardless of how Jane tried to discourage them. At the same time, legitimate suitors were few and far between. Jane could not muster anything more than the absence of disliking for the few that were willing to ally themselves with the Bennet family.

Yet leaving, and once gone the only realistic option was of becoming a governess, felt like she was abandoning her family. Jane nearly couldn't do it, but it was Lydia's birthday, once again, that was the catalyst for next change in the Bennet family. When Mary refused again to return to Longbourn for it, Mrs Bennet was very insulting to her middle child, which then expanded to include all three daughters that had left already. Jane knew that there was no point arguing or even replying, so sat there quietly. Not getting a reaction spoilt a lot of her enjoyment from the rant. As Mrs Bennet stopped she commented that they, meaning Lydia and her, would be better off if Jane wasn't around putting a damper on their enjoyment.

This was the final straw. Mrs Bennet and Lydia had made it very clear that they didn't want her there and her father didn't seem to care or even notice her at all. Jane wrote to Mrs Gardener to arrange for a placing as a governess. She replied quickly, saying she had found her a position, and the family was happy to wait until she was able to arrive.

Decision made, Jane started slowly taking things, item by item, to Charlotte's. Well before her birthday, all of the sentimental items, including Elizabeth's things Jane had kept all this time, had been moved. Then, just before her birthday, Jane packed the bulk of her clothing and shoes into two trunks. Taking a leaf from Elizabeth's book she feigned a headache one night so that she could stay home from the assembly so that Charlotte could come and pick them up.

That done, all Jane had to do was cycle through the remaining dresses the last two weeks she had left and hope that Mrs Bennet didn't notice the liveliness in her step. And she didn't. Mrs Bennet was consumed planning and organising a very large birthday celebration. Trying, as always to upstage the Long's, who's eldest turned 21 only a year ago.

The day of her birthday arrived. Jane found she was excited by the thought of moving on, so with this in mind, no one, not even Lydia at her most catty, was able to upset her. That afternoon, as the party progressed, Longbourn looked better than it had for a long time. In that Mrs Bennet had done very well indeed. Because this was for Jane rather than the Bennet's generally, a number of the neighbours that previously had not chosen to visit since the scandal chose to turn up for this event. Mrs Bennet was at her most proud, most haughty, reinforcing the local's opinion of her.

Even Mr Bennet made an appearance, although he spent his time with the few other older gentlemen that were similar in wit and who shared his views on life. He did wish Jane a happy birthday and even made a passable speech at the appropriate time. When the party was drawing to a close, Jane saw Charlotte return in her father's gig. At this Jane called for attention. She stated to all those assembled that this was also her farewell party and that she was on her way to London as she had found a place as a governess.

While everyone, including her parents and both of the youngest sisters, stood shocked and speechless, Jane waved goodbye and hopped up into the gig. With only the fastest reacting in time, and wishing Jane well, the two ladies drove down the drive and out onto the road to St Albans, Jane laughing with the audacity of what she had done. She hoped that the letter she had left in father's library would, in some way, explain the manner in which she chose to depart, and help him understand why she felt she had to leave. She had not left a letter for her mother there was nothing that she could write that would help.

Jane remembered arriving in London, both excited and fearful of being a governess in a family that she nothing of, other than they were someone that Mrs Gardener knew. Her surprise was complete when she discovered the family 'needing the governess' was the Gardener's themselves. Since arriving, Jane found new energy and a new purpose. She had been able to visit Elizabeth twice since arriving, probably the most amazing time of her life. Amy-Jane at three and a half was a precocious toddler, already talking and into everything. Jane found it tiring trying to keep up, and wondered how Elizabeth ever managed.

* * *

><p><strong>Present - <strong>These memories left a wistful smile on Jane's face. She loved being an accepted part of a loving family, but she wished that somehow, one day she would also partake in the delight (and even the heartache) of being a mother. Realising that she should pay more attention to the children she was supposed to be the governess to, she stopped reminiscing and focused on the children playing only a few yards away.


	13. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 2

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 2**

Charles Bingley was feeling very happy with himself. He and his two partners had just closed a deal with a wholesaler, making considerably more profit than expected. They had just finished celebrating with a coffee (with a nip of whiskey in each from John Grant's hip flask) in a small café just around the corner from the buyer's warehouse in Cheapside. As it was a fine day, the three of them decided that, rather take a cab back to the business district as their afternoon was free, a walk across the nearby park and then along the Thames would be ideal to discuss their next joint venture. As they made their way through the park, they were in the process of finalising the next deal when their discussion was disrupted by a young lad, chased by an older boy just about bowled them.

"Watch what you are doing, you little scamp!" Peter yelled at the rapidly retreating back of the young boy.

"I apologise for my brother, sir." Said the lad chasing, stopping momentarily, "But if I don't catch him my hat will end in the pond!" And at this, he took off also.

"Reminds me of the two of us at their age." John said to Peter, watching the younger lad suddenly change direction and head off towards a lady in her very early twenties sitting on a bench to one side of the park. Peter and Charles had both also turned to follow the children's progress.

"Yes, but I was always able to catch you… Look, he's made it to his… mother? No, too young. Possibly a sister?" Peter had noticed the lady the youngest was hiding behind.

"Does it matter? Whoever she is, she's far too young and beautiful to be their governess, what mother would risk having that living in the same house as her husband." John replied.

"I would've liked her to have been our governess!" Peter winked at John, and gestured with nudge and a tilt of his head towards Charles, who was now very distracted by the vision before him.

"What an angel." Exclaimed Charles, making his admiration plain. "I wonder if…. No, she's probably…"

"Look Charles, you go and introduce yourself, our business is done in all but the final details." Peter was happily engaged, and was keen to see his friends also enter the parson's mousetrap.

"Yeah, I've just remembered something we should be doing. See you at the club tomorrow?" added John, taking a cue from his brother

Charles muttered something that they took to be his agreement. He distractedly shook the Grant brother's hands as they took their leave of him.

* * *

><p>Jane watched the Gardener children. Emily sat a little way off on a blanket having a picnic with her dolls and the nurse. Harry and James alternatively played well together or fought as brothers do. She could see them over by the small pavilion. As she watched, James suddenly ran off, carrying in his hand what could only be Harry's hat, directly for the other side of the park where a bridge crossed a small pond, with Harry chasing.<p>

Jane watched, not sure if she should stand and intervene - and create a bigger scene - or to just let them carry on hoping that they would soon stop on their own. Plagued by indecision, Jane had not moved, just watching, when James just about bowled a group of well dressed gentlemen strolling through the park, conversing. As Jane was about to get up to apologise, she noticed that while Harry had done so on his brothers behalf and James had changed direction and was obviously coming over to use her as protection against his older brother's expected retaliation.

James and Harry soon arrived and carried on bickering, but Jane's attention was on the three gentlemen. They had stopped talking amongst themselves and now were looking over at her and the two cousins. Jane tried to see if they were annoyed or not, as if they were, she would have to take James over to apologise. She saw, while they were talking and looking her way, that one of them winked and nudged another. They talked a bit more, although the taller, fairer one seemed more interested in her or the children than his companions. Soon, they all shook hands and the other two left the taller one behind.

Jane noticed that, as her cousins had gone over to their nurse and sister, the tall gentleman was not looking at them, but definitely at her. He then started walking towards her. She blushed and turned her head away, looking at the children instead.

* * *

><p>Charles saw the lady blush and turn away and so he turned away himself. In doing so he saw that the Grant brothers had gone as far as the edge of the park but had stopped to see what he would do, Charles decided a faint heart never won a fair maiden. So he pulled himself up, nervously brushed back his hair, put on what he thought was his most winning smile and continued on until he was next to the bench.<p>

Sitting down, he tried to think of what he could say to initiate a conversation. With a number of failed opening lines unspoken, Charles stated what he thought was his best option. "You can tell the older lad that we all accepted his apology on his brother's behalf. He did not stay long enough to hear it himself".

She turned back towards him but said nothing. There was an awkward pause. Charles wasn't sure what to do now. Women generally could tell just from his clothes and manner his wealth and status which made him a reasonable prize on the marriage mart, and although none had 'bought him up to the mark', they usually were happy to respond when he initiated conversation. Her silence wasn't a first, but it was fairly rare. Taking the plunge, Charles continued.

"Maybe I could offer it to him myself, could you introduce me? Charles Bingley, lately of Liverpool, now residing in London". She seemed uncertain about replying, and Charles started feeling somewhat nervous. He was not sure why he wanted to make such a good impression. Yes, she was beautiful and demure, and her colouring and complexion was exactly what people said was his 'type'. But it was more than that. Charles was drawn to the certain vulnerability in her manner, and a wistful longing, or something like that, in her look. Intuitively he knew that she had had experienced heartache and pain in her life, and that it was not yet over. He wanted to ask what the trouble was, and to offer to help, but that would be impossible, not knowing her, yet.

"Harry. James" the lady called out to the children.

"Yes, Cousin". Harry came over, followed by a more reluctant James.

"Henry Gardener, James Gardener, I would like to you to meet Mr Bingley." She gestured towards him. "James, I believe you own him an apology, even if your brother offered one on your behalf."

Charles laughed, "No apology needed, lad. I was once your age."

"Nevertheless, you will make you apology. James." The lady was adamant.

"I is…" Said James. "Am", corrected the older cousin. "I am very sorry Sir". James was wearing a cheeky grin, Charles couldn't help but grin back. The young boy turned to his cousin, and continued, "Did I do good Cousin Jane?"

Charles felt like he had been given a precious nugget, 'Jane'. 'That lady' had a name - 'Jane'.

"Yes, dear you did WELL". Stressing the corrected final word, Jane turned towards Charles, and blushing at him said, "Thank you, sir, for being so forgiving. But we have taken enough of your time. I see your friends are still waiting for you at the edge of the park for you… Come now boys." Calling out she continued "Nurse, I will help you pack up Emily's picnic." At this Jane got up and, nodding goodbye, took the boys over to their sister and nurse. Charles could have kicked the Grant's, because Jane was correct, there they were standing watching him. Having been dismissed, he could do nothing but walk away. Charles could not say anything as he would not hear the end of it.

* * *

><p>A few weeks later the Grant brothers found it amusing that Charles seemed to be conducting a lot of his business from the small café they went to after concluding the last deal. Yet when he was there he seemed more intend on those visiting the park than discussing business. A couple of times Charles seemed to end the discussion hastily, and head off towards the park. They did jest, that for someone that was trying to sell up and join the landed gentry he was doing a lot of business in Cheapside lately. Charles had his man of business find out what he could of the Gardener family, who they were and, if in business, what did he deal in. As Mr Gardener was fairly successful this was not difficult, and Charles found out all he needed to know to initiate a business deal with Mr Gardener within another week.<p>

Charles continued to meet 'his Jane', as he had thought of her in his own mind, whenever he saw that she was at the park. He was friendly and outgoing, she was far more reserved. But overtime he broke it down, at least to the point where he was able to talk to her, rather than through the children. That he actually seemed to enjoy being with the young Gardener children, staying to play with them if they were just with their nurse, and Jane not there, was a good deal for it.

* * *

><p>Jane was starting to hope that maybe Mr Bingley was interested in her, not just in flirting. Jane was not yet up to thinking of him as Charles – although he probably would have been happy just to know that she thought of him at all. But she could not overcome her thought regarding what she had seen just before Mr Bingley first introduced himself. Could it have been another bet, like the one that caused the ruin of Elizabeth? Just the possibility of it happening again frightened Jane. Added to this was her worry that she was horribly over-reacting. Could she ever be able to open her heart again? The damage caused by Viscount Sumerville's callous actions had bit deep.<p>

In response to this Jane did what she had done the four long years living in Longbourn after Elizabeth fled, she wrote to her sister. Sometimes just putting her thoughts down on paper helped her deal with the emotions she was feeling, defined the problem or cut through the confusion. So Jane wrote of what had happened that day, what she had seen, how Mr Bingley had been that day, and in each subsequent meeting, and all that she was feeling. In this case, Jane found herself calmer after writing the letter, but it didn't leave her any less uncertain about what she had seen.

Elizabeth's reply first asked a range of questions like: Was he rich? How did his friends act? Did they egg him on? Has she seen them again? Have they distracted the nurse, or the children? After what seemed like an endless list of questions, that Jane found they more confused her than helped. At the end of the letter Elizabeth shared that she also found it difficult to trust men, particularly those with money or position, and describing a few examples of the 'fine gentlemen' she had encountered in Ramsgate, she may have had a point. The letters continued back and forth regular as always, but without any conclusion.

* * *

><p>Charles was aware that his current happiness was annoying Darcy, but could not help it, he had managed to contrive a dinner invitation to the Gardener's. As much as he tried, Bingley could not get Darcy to accompany him that night. Darcy was adamant that he was no going to be dragged to a home of some middle class gent to be fawned over by the whole household, and watch as 'his Jane' made eyes and simpered all over his friend. As much as Charles tried to tell Darcy that would not be how it was, Mr Gardener was intelligent, affable and quite respectable and Bingley expected his wife to be the same. Darcy then countered that if that was the case, then Bingley was wasting his time as they would likely not allow the governess, whether a relative or not to share the dinner table with important guests. So, as much as Charles would have liked to have the moral support and perception of his closest friend, he was going alone.<p>

Dinner was everything that Charles had imagined it to be. Both Gardeners were articulate, lively conversationalists, engaging and interesting. Jane Bennet – Bennet, what a lovely name – was shy and demure, and was treated as a favoured niece, not like a poor relative/servant. As much as he wanted to, Charles learnt little of her family, other than she came from Longbourn which was near St Albans. Both Gardeners seemed adept at sidestepping or guiding the conversation away from Jane's background. However, Charles was able to talk to Jane on any other topic without restriction, and in the company of her Uncle and Aunt she was nowhere near as reserved as in the park. The evening came to a close well before Charles had discovered much of what he would have liked to know about her. But, all in all, Charles was very happy with the way that the evening went, and extended an invitation for the Gardeners and their niece to dinner in a week's time.

A week, however, was too long for Charles to wait to see his Jane, so he worked on Caroline to get her to invite Jane for a visit, 'just to get to know her before the dinner, of course'. Caroline was very reluctant, from all she had heard, she was also imagining the same grasping, simpering poor relative using her 'charms' to entrap Charles into a terrible misalliance. As flighty as Charles appeared, if there was something he wanted, he was as tenacious as a bull-dog, so only 3 days later, a very surprised Jane received an invitation to afternoon tea at the Bingley townhouse tomorrow.

The visit was not a success. Caroline had no intention of liking this low placed woman, and this showed. She deliberately chose to hold the visit in the town house's finest parlour where the over-wrought sumptuous decorations and wealth on display was deliberately done to intimidate. Jane had little experience with visiting rituals in the ton (or at least this close to it) and thus was even more reserved than usual. The conversation was conducted more like an interrogation, Caroline relentless in trying to find out about Jane's background, particularly as Jane seemed reluctant to share anything other than the most cursory information. Towards the end of the visit, the two ladies sat for a good deal not saying anything at all. Relieved that what had become an ordeal was over, Jane left, feeling smaller than she ever had. Had Charles know that Jane burst into tears as soon as she returned to the Gardeners and almost begged to be allowed to be excused from the upcoming dinner he would have been very annoyed. Thankfully for him, the Gardeners calmed their niece and, in the end, she felt up to going to the dinner after all.

Charles almost bounced into the back parlour as soon as was polite to find out what Caroline thought of his angel. His face slowly fell as, rather than having his good opinion confirmed, his sister was extremely disparaging about Jane. The lady Caroline described bore very little resemblance to the Jane he had dinner with only a few days earlier. When he found out that Caroline had held the visit in the most intimidating of the parlours, he realised that she probably had not given Jane a chance, and was able to dismiss most of her comments in that light. He was less able to counter, in his own mind, Caroline assertion that Jane was hiding something in her past or background, as he had also noticed this.

At this point Charles, not having the conformation he wanted from his sister, and Caroline raising some of the same concerns he had about Jane's reluctance to be forthcoming with information about her background, he did what he always did when he was not sure, he went to his most dispassionate, logical friend – Darcy.

Charles talked for a long time about Jane, his growing feelings, what he knew, what he knew he didn't know and what questions had been asked but not answered, all extracted through Darcy's careful questioning. Charles had hoped that Darcy would have been able to meet Jane in person, but although the dinner invitation had been extended to him, Darcy was due to leave to Ramsgate to arrange a lease of a house for his sister early tomorrow, so couldn't make it. Darcy, himself, concluded aloud to Bingley that his initial impression of Jane may have been wrong, given Charles description of the dinner at the Gardener's, but did not tell Charles that he felt that Bingley was already seeing her, and by inference, the Gardeners, through the rose tinted glasses of a blossoming infatuation. Asked specifically for advice, Darcy was reluctant to give it. He knew little more information than Charles had related, and he wanted to observe Jane himself – he prided himself at his discernment. He knew he could easily tell if a woman genuinely liked (or loved) a man or was it just the usual arts and allurements they female of the species enacted to entrap the male.

Pushed, he would only say that given Charles knew a surname, and an approximate location, Bingley should send his man of business to investigate the family, as that should, at a minimum, give some confirmation of what little information he knew, and could provide more. He did suggest that Charles tell his man of business to be discrete as he was investigating a lady's family on behalf of a friend.

Charles wished to talk more, but Darcy had to excuse himself as he was leaving early tomorrow for nearly a week and had a lot to do before he could retire tonight. Almost pushing a reluctant Charles out, Darcy did wish Charles luck, as given Caroline's obvious dislike of Jane (something Darcy actually saw as something in Jane's favour) Bingley could easily have a fairly hard time at the dinner.

Thankfully for all concerned, Caroline found another engagement that she 'just could not get out of', and Charles's other sister Louisa acted as hostess that evening. Louisa had heard everything that Caroline found objectionable about her brothers latest 'angel', and was prepared for the worst, but found, like Charles on his first visit that the Gardeners were enjoyable guests and the only things that were not in Jane's favour was her shyness and the reserve she had in talking about her family or background.


	14. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 3

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 3**

Darcy sat in the seat opposite his sister Georgiana and her companion, Mrs Younge, swaying as the Darcy carriage bounced over the bumps in the road. Ever since their father died five years ago, Georgiana had lost her childhood inquisitiveness, and had become almost painfully shy. He had hoped that she would grow out of it, as she matured, but in many ways she became more withdrawn as she got older than less. He had always found children easy to deal with, and his sister was a delight, but as she started on the road to becoming a woman, there were many things that he felt all at sea about.

Thus her companion, Mrs Younge, who appeared at Pemberly for another reason, with almost perfect serendipity just as he decided to start looking for a companion for Georgiana a little over a year ago. She had great references, and truth be told, was good for Georgiana. Maybe her pushing was what Georgie needed, Darcy had come to agree that her current shyness might be, in part, due to his willingness to indulge her desire for privacy, as Mrs Younge had suggested.

This trip was Mrs Younge's idea, and Darcy hoped that the outcome would be as positive as she had predicted. The reason for the holiday was to go to stay somewhere new, which would put Georgie in a position where she had to meet people, but as Mrs Younge suggested, not that busy, so the number of suitable people would not overwhelm. Darcy had suggested Bath (too many and mostly old people), Harrogate (the same) or Brighton (and expose dear Georgiana to the fast Regent's set) and even London (do I need even to list the reasons why Town is unsuitable), but there were valid reasons for avoiding each of them. Mrs Younge had suggested Ramsgate, apparently one of her previous young ladies had been pleasantly diverted by a stay of several months there, only a few years ago.

Mrs Younge had obviously made this trip several times in the past as she amused Georgie with information and anecdotes about points of interest they passed. Darcy had tried to read, but once they had gone a few hours out of London the road had got too rough to allow it. He wished he had brought his horse Cicero down from Pemberly and so ridden alongside the carriage, but he knew he did not have time to properly exercise it in London.

They stayed over night at a passable inn, before setting out again mid-morning. When they arrived at the White Swan, they were met by the proprietor, who had set aside the best rooms for his important guests. While the ladies took time to recover from their travels, Darcy just changed out of his travelling clothes to something more suitable and went to meet the local land agent forthwith. He inspected several furnished dwellings, rejecting some, and noting three that were up to his demanding standards, to bring Georgie to inspect tomorrow. He knew his preference, a medium sized house, with it's own garden, and a little away from the waterfront. It was at the edge of the good area, but had the best prospect over the harbour and channel. The other two were townhouses. There was a small one on the waterfront promenade, which had good public rooms at the expense of the private rooms and servant accommodation. The other was the largest of the three, but was back one street with no view of the water. But, thought Darcy, he will give Georgie the chance to pick which one she wishes to stay in as it didn't matter to him, as he would be spending most of his time in London.

Darcy was rather pleased with Georgie, as she chose his preference. Thankfully the owner, a retired admiral, had already left for his annual trip to Harrogate. So the house was available immediately, and Darcy engaged it at once. He left the ladies with the land agent verifying the house inventory, returned to the White Swan to settle up and get the luggage moved. When he returned, the ladies had finished the inventory and were discussing tonight's menu with the cook. Seeing that he was not needed, he went into the library, to see what taste in books the owner had. He was pleasantly surprised that the library was stocked with plenty of books on a wide range of interesting subjects. He no longer feared being trapped in the house for several days if there was bad weather.

Flicking through a number of books he had initially selected, he heard Georgiana start playing a Mozart sonata on the pianoforte in the parlour next door. She was tentative at first, but as she discovered that it was an excellent instrument and in good tune, she finished with increasing vigour. As was her normal routine, one that Darcy knew well, Georgiana played a few pieces and then progressed to scales and other fingering exercises. Once these were done, Georgiana continued playing, but much more hesitantly, as appeared to be learning a new concerto or sonata. Darcy wasn't sure but it sounded like Bach, so he asked and had confirmation that his guess was correct.

* * *

><p>A day later, Georgiana was enjoying the time walking along the waterfront with just her brother, Mrs Younge having asked if she could catch up with some correspondence. The weather was pleasant, the perfection of a cloudless sky somewhat tempered by the sharpish breeze. But in places where it was sheltered from the westerly was close to heavenly. Georgie skipped ahead of her brother to one of these suntraps at the point where the breakwater met the waterfront. There was a large building just to the west that sheltered a large grassed area in front of it. As Darcy was in no hurry, he did not follow, but lent forward and rested his elbows on the sea wall. He watched as ships from all parts of the world tacked back and forth, heading up the Thames Estuary, to London. Georgiana saw her brother was engrossed in watching the ships sail past, but they didn't interest her. As she looked around a small girl wandered up to her, her mother appeared to be the quite pretty lady a short distance away talking to a local matron.<p>

"Pretty lady, do you like Kitty?" the girl said thrusting a rag-doll up at Georgiana.

Georgiana looked down, the young girl, that must not have been more than five, but spoke well and dressed in a somewhat ruffled, but reasonable quality dress. "Is Kitty your doll's name?"

"Yes, because Auntie Kitty gave her me."

"Auntie Kitty gave her to me". Georgiana automatically corrected the girl's grammar.

"No she didn't, she's mine."

After a moment's confusion, Georgiana realised the little girl had misinterpreted her correction. "I know she is yours, but you need to say 'because Aunt Kitty gave her TO me' not 'gave her me', understand?"

"You are just like my mummy, she always gets me to say things again, too."

"Your mother just wants you to learn how to speak properly, just like my mother did".

"That's my mother." The girl said pointing to a lady nearby, "Her name is Elizabeth. My name is Amy-Jane. I can write my letters. Do you want to see? What's your name?"

Georgiana crouched down to the little girl's level. "Yes, I thought that was your mother. My name is Georgiana, and yes I would like to see you write your name, can you show me."

Amy-Jane handed her new friend her doll, then picked up a small stick and wrote in the dirt a very presentable ' '. She pointed to ' A M Y ' and said "Amy means 'beloved' in Latin. Did you know that? My mother knows Latin. She is very clever. She knows everything!"

Georgiana had to agree, Latin was not something a lady usually knew, "Yes, she must be clever, you are clever too, you know your letters. What about these ones?" Georgiana gently took the stick off Amy-Jane and wrote her own name alongside.

"I know that one! It's a 'G' and… and an 'E'… and that one is an 'O'!" Georgiana wrote out her full name of Georgiana Eleanor Catherine Darcy, and Amy-Jane was able to name each letter as it was written, and even read bits of her name correctly.

Georgiana was about to see how the young girl was with recognising numbers when the girl's mother, who had finished her conversation, came over to where they were. Georgiana realise the impropriety of her actions, as she had been talking with a girl without being introduced, so blushed furiously. Amy-Jane's mother did not seem to mind and said, "There you are dear, who is your friend?"

"She's a pretty lady."

"Yes I can see that." Turning to Georgiana, who had gone an even dark shade of red, Elizabeth, said, "Hello, it is nice to meet you. I am Elizabeth Smith. I see you have met my daughter Amy Jane."

Georgiana felt completely out of her depth, her mind was completely blank, what was she supposed to do now – call over her brother, introduce herself without him, apologise and leave. She panicked, "Georgiana. Elizabeth. Darcy. Hello. No, sorry. Darcy, Georgiana. Hello. Oh sorry...". Elizabeth could see this very young lady was on the verge tears and about to run.

"Hush. Take a deep breath... Good, now breathe. Let's try this again."

Elizabeth paused, waiting for the young lady to compose herself then continued, "Hello, it is nice to meet you. My name is Elizabeth Smith, and this is my daughter Amy-Jane." She paused and looked at Georgiana. Georgiana had calmed down a little and looked up expecting to see Elizabeth looking amused or condemning, but she appeared only concerned and caring.

Having been put at ease, Georgiana was able to introduce herself and then carry on a normal introductory conversation, where she learnt that Elizabeth had only lived in Ramsgate for four years, soon after Amy-Jane was born, grew up on a small estate near a town a little north of London, was living with her aunt's mother Mrs Carter (and her aunt was her mother's, brothers wife), she only had sisters and other such things. Elizabeth learnt Georgiana Darcy was an orphan, her mother dying when she was very young, her father passing away nearly a year prior to Amy-Jane's birth, where she was staying for a about a three month holiday with her companion Mrs Younge, that her brother – he was the handsome gentleman leaning on the sea wall over there watch the ships sail past – was the kindest, most generous brother in the world, they lived in a grand estate called Pemberly and other trivial things.

Elizabeth enjoyed talking to this young lady, she reminded her a little of Jane and a bit of how Jane described Kitty as being prior to moving to the Durrant's, but Amy-Jane had started to fidget. The pair made their goodbyes and, after arranging to meet again but longer, tomorrow, they parted ways.

Darcy had not been as unaware of his sister as she had thought, and had seen Georgie playing with the little girl and her subsequent embarrassment when the mother arrived. He had almost been about to go forward, in case Georgie's poor manners offended the girl's mother, but she seemed amused instead so he let it go, not wanting to embarrass Georgiana – he'd ask to her about it later.

When Georgiana returned to where he was, she took the initiative in telling him about her stumbling introduction and how kind Elizabeth, the mother, had been about it. Darcy said he was pleased that Georgiana was able to recover gracefully, and praised her for being able to converse easily to a stranger. Georgiana said she wished everyone she met were as kind and nice to her, if that was the case, she would have no problem with her coming out. Darcy then told Georgiana to ensure that she thanked Elizabeth next time they met. Georgiana assured her brother she would, and will be able to do so soon, as they were meeting again tomorrow.

* * *

><p>As arranged, Elizabeth and Amy-Jane met Georgiana at the same small park late the next morning. While Amy-Jane played with her new friend Georgie and her mother, Georgiana was able to talk with Elizabeth. Georgiana found Elizabeth, who soon 'Lizzie', to be someone that she found it very easy to talk to. Their conversation covered a wide range of topics, including favourite composers, history, science, philosophy, literature and current event, but even with these 'dry' subject Elizabeth was able to generally keep it amusing. Mrs Younge was not so enamoured with Elizabeth, as she was not interested in those things, she rathe enjoyed fashion or London gossip, which was not talked about, nor was she able to keep up with either Elizabeth or Georgiana's quick wit, so soon sat, observing the proprieties from another bench.<p>

The following day, Georgiana had arranged for a picnic basket, so the morning together extended past noon and well into the afternoon. Mrs Younge had grown bored with listening to a conversation that she had little interested in and, feeling that Elizabeth was a suitable chaperone, left to go shopping. This allowed the two ladies to get better acquainted and discuss more personal things. Georgiana found she felt easy sharing things with Elizabeth that she could not share with Mrs Younge, let alone her brother.

Darcy was not at any of these outings, but certainly heard all about them. Georgiana had found a very good friend in Elizabeth and her daughter Amy-Jane. When Georgiana related some of the precocious things the little girl had said, Darcy laughed. The mother, Elizabeth, appeared to already be on first name basis with his sister. Thus Darcy paid a great deal of attention to what Georgie related about what Elizabeth said or did, as he had not met this Mrs Smith or knew much, actually anything at all, about this lady. Everything related to him about Mrs Smith by Georgie or Mrs Younge indicated she was a gentlewoman in straighten circumstances. She also appeared to be witty and well educated, indeed she appeared to have has a similar education to a gentleman. Yet she was able to discuss these male topics, such as history, philosophy, science or current events, in a manner that both engaged and amused his sister, who remembered enough of it to tell him. Even in a few days, Georgie's dinner conversation regularly included 'Lizzie said…' or 'Lizzie thinks…'

Darcy was intrigued by this Mrs Smith, she had already brought back some of the younger livelier Georgiana that had disappeared after their father had died. While he had to go back to London soon, Mrs Smith, and also Mr Smith, if he was similar, which Darcy thought was likely, would be a welcome addition to the dining table, as Mrs Younge conversation was limited to only feminine subjects. Something that Darcy had neither the patience nor inclination to indulge her or Georgiana with. He could not picture her in his mind with any accuracy, but he remembered noticing that she had a fine figure and a pleasing countenance.

After dinner, Darcy asked his sister if she was meeting Mrs Smith and her daughter tomorrow, and Georgiana confirmed that they were going to walk out past the breakwater and along the coast to see the lighthouse if the weather was fine or the lending library if not. Darcy told Mrs Younge she could accompany them, but only if she wished. Mrs Younge, not being a great walker, chose to stay in town.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Darcy had to restrain his sister from bolting down her food and racing out the door as soon as her breakfast was over. Even with as many delays and distractions as Darcy could invent, they were still early. Thankfully Elizabeth and Amy-Jane were punctual, and Darcy only had to put up with Georgiana's constant requests for the time or whether he could see them coming for a short while.<p>

Darcy was pleased to see Georgiana take the initiative in the introductions.

"Lizzie this is my brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Fitzwilliam this is my friend Elizabeth."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Darcy". Elizabeth curtsied. She looked down to see her daughter hiding behind her skirts. Gently moving Amy-Jane into view, Elizabeth said to Darcy.

"Mr Darcy, meet my daughter, Amy-Jane".

"Happy to…." The rest of Darcy's reply was interrupted by the little girl.

"Hey Mr Darcy. Why are you so very tall?"

Darcy crouched down to her height, "Nice to meet you, Amy-Jane. Well, I was a good boy and ate all the food on my plate. Are you good for your mother?"

"Oh yes, Granny Carter makes the yummiest things. Oh, except cabbage. I HATE cabbage."

"Amy-Jane Charlotte!" her last comment drew a sharp rebuke from her mother.

"But Mummy, I do. You said it's bad to lie." The look of indignation was written boldly across her young face.

"Still you lady, you do not say you hate something, just that you dislike it. Please apologise."

"Yes Mummy." The apology came out grudgingly, "Sorry."

Darcy, who was still crouched down next to Amy-Jane, said in stage whisper, "I DISLIKED (waggled eyebrows) cabbage too, so I ate everything on my plate, except the cabbage."

Amy-Jane found this very big man agreeing with her hilarious, and her laughter proved infectious. Ice broken, the four headed off towards the end of the breakwater and then the path along the coast to the lighthouse. Amy-Jane was over-exited and full of energy so she raced off ahead of the others. Georgiana rushed off to catch up, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy to follow.

Amy-Jane ran around in youthful excitement. This in turn bought out the young girl in Georgiana. So soon the pair were skipping along, twirling around and generally having fun. Darcy and Elizabeth followed along behind talking about anything and everything. Their conversation bore little resemblance with any of the previous conversations Darcy had had with ladies, it was more like talking with Richard or Bingley. Darcy was amazed at the very wide range of subjects Mrs Smith was able to discuss intelligently. Most enjoyably, she not only disagreed with him when her viewpoint was different, but could vigorously defend herself with logic and a lightning quick wit. By the time they all reached the lighthouse, Elizabeth had successfully caused Darcy to re-evaluate several positions that he held, in light of her arguments.

The view over the Channel from the bluff the lighthouse sat on was spectacular, and certainly worth the hour walk to get there. Amy-Jane was full of questions about the ships she could see and, thankfully, Darcy had a wealth of knowledge on them to answer her inquisitiveness. Darcy did smile inwardly, noticing here was at least one subject Elizabeth was deficient, but he doubted there were many more.

After Amy-Jane had appeared to run out of nautical questions to ask, and having taken their fill of the view, the party walked down the path at the edge of the bluff to the small beach below. This excursion prompted many questions from both Georgiana and Amy-Jane about the birds they saw or the various items they found washed up above the high tide line. It became a good-natured contest between Elizabeth and Darcy to see who could answer the question first, or more correctly. Georgiana entered into the spirit of the contest as well, trying to come up with as difficult questions she could think of.

This game was effectively bought to a halt when one completely unidentified object led to an ever more wild back and forth speculation between the pair of them, finishing with the most outlandish flight of imagination. The last suggestion left all but Amy-Jane convulsing in laughter, much to her indignation as she could not understand the joke. Amy-Jane demanded to be told what was funny. Both Elizabeth and Darcy tried, but simply could not explain it to a four year old. As Amy-Jane started to get more and more upset with not being able to understand, Darcy found a suitable shell to distract her with, which drew a grateful look from her mother. This left Darcy feeing unusually pleased with himself.

Climbing back up the path, they all took a breather before setting back. The two younger members of the party were far more subdued on the return and did not race off ahead as on the way out. Thus the conversation covered subjects more suited to the four of them. Darcy had expected to get bored, but Elizabeth's quick wit and Amy-Jane's precocious nature made even this enjoyable. Georgiana felt more alive than she had for a long time, and during the times the conversation was more adult in nature, over came her natural shyness to venture an opinion, and was amazed, when the others listened to it.

About halfway back Amy-Jane started complaining about being tired, so her mother picked her up to carry her. Darcy intervened almost immediately, lifting the young girl out of her mother's arms and onto his shoulders. A delighted Amy-Jane, crowing about being the tallest, was carried in this manner the rest of the way back. Elizabeth apologised for the inconvenience, explaining that they had made this trip several times in the past and Amy-Jane walked the full distance, but she did not normally run around so much on the way there or did they go down to the beach. Darcy refused to accept that an apology was necessary, explaining he regularly carried Georgiana like this when she was this size, and it brought back pleasant memories. This admission prompted talk of various childhood experiences that continued the rest of the way back to Ramsgate.

Arriving back at the grassy area, Darcy put down a well rested Amy-Jane and the siblings prepared to take their leave.

"Oh Lizzie, thank you. That was wonderful."

"You are welcome. Thank you for joining us."

"Bye, bye Amy-Jane."

"Bye, bye 'Giana, see you 'morrow?"

"If I can. Goodbye. You be good."

While Georgiana and Amy-Jane finished their goodbyes, Darcy turned to Elizabeth and said. "I also had a very enjoyable time. Thank you for allowing me to join you, Mrs Smith. I hope…"

"Miss", Elizabeth interjected.

"Sorry?" Darcy was confused; he didn't just hear what he thought he had.

"Miss Smith. I am not married."

Now Darcy was confused, had she just admitted to being an unmarried mother. Yet she was so genteel, everything she said or did was proper. His head spun.

"Not married?" Both his anger and confusion was very apparent. Georgiana turned and looked upset at an almost perfect day so far suddenly starting to fall apart.

"No." Elizabeth's reply was stated bluntly.

"But how…?" Darcy gestured towards Amy-Jane.

"The usual way..." Elizabeth gave him a very pointed look. "Do you really think this is something we should be discussing in front of your sister?"

Darcy had expected some sign of contrition or embarrassment, but he saw none. She appeared completely shameless in admitting her fallen condition. He was stunned, he had thoroughly enjoyed a morning conversing with possibly the most engaging lady he had known and yet here she was effectively owning to being an adulterer. The pause before Darcy was composed enough to reply seemed to drag on interminably.

"No, in this you are correct. Thank you for your company, but we must be going."

This statement was met with a cool eyed stare, the only emotion he could detect was disappointment – but once again Darcy was confused, what reason did she have for being disappointed? Falling back on propriety he gave a perfunctory bow, said goodbye to both mother and daughter, took his sisters arm and ensured they left.

Elizabeth was on verge of tears. Mr Darcy's sudden change in demeanour highlighted everything she had lost with her foolish actions of five years ago. Her acceptance by the locals here in Ramsgate had pushed this to the back of her mind. But she was not, ever, going to live a lie again, and if they could not accept her for who she and Amy-Jane were, that was their loss. Her previous good opinion of Mr Darcy, which his most recent actions had just badly damaged, was more or less destroyed with what she overheard as the two of them walked away.

"What is wrong, Fitzwilliam? Why are we leaving so quickly?" Georgiana was clearly upset.

"You didn't tell me!" It was suppose to be a whisper, but this and the following words came out a lot louder than he realised. Darcy was very annoyed, with Elizabeth for concealing her fallen nature so well, with Georgiana for not telling him, or not knowing, or not asking, or something. And also at himself, for realising that there were any number of clues; no ring, no mention of a husband, Amy-Jane never mentioned a father. He should have noticed, should have realised, should have at least made enquiries. All this flashed through his head in the moments before having to answer his sister's next question.

"Tell you what, brother?"

"She is a fallen woman."

'But what does that mean?"

"It means she is unsuitable to be your friend. That's what it means. You will send a note apologising for us not meeting her tomorrow, as we discussed earlier."

"But Fitzwilliam!"

Elizabeth had heard enough, as turned away so did not hear the rest of their arguments. Feeling wearier than she had for a long time, she took Amy-Jane home. Elizabeth dreaded having to explain why her daughter would no longer see her new friend, or why they would now avoid them in public. When she reached Mrs Carter's she sent Amy-Jane out the back to play, and then vented her built up anger and frustration at Mr Darcy and the world in general. Mrs Carter cautioned Elizabeth, that as much as she was accepted here, it was an acceptance built up over time and only after the local got to know her and the depths of her heart. Mr Darcy's reaction, however regrettable, was normal, given her circumstances. Not happy, but suitably chastised, Elizabeth was now calm enough to accept Mrs Carter's word with equanimity she had not felt only a short time ago.

On the way home and later that night Darcy refused to explain to Georgiana anything more than as Elizabeth had a child out of wedlock she effectively made herself persona-no-gratis. He managed to get Georgiana to send an apology about their meeting tomorrow, and prevented her from meeting Elizabeth for the rest of his stay in Ramsgate, but only by keeping her busy doing other things. When pressed by Georgiana about whether she must quit the acquaintance, Darcy could not insist she do so. Why this was he could not explain, just that he felt an overwhelming sense of regret if he thought of not ever talking to Elizabeth again.

* * *

><p>Georgiana did have an unexpected ally in Mrs Younge. She delivered the apology note to Elizabeth, making Elizabeth feel a lot better when she explained that Georgiana had no intention of giving up the acquaintance and her brother had not forbidden it. She advised that Mr Darcy would be leaving for London soon, and Georgiana would be able to resume her meetings once he had gone. Elizabeth did not like to deceive Mr Darcy, but Mrs Younge said that even he recognised that he had over reacted, but it was just that he was too proud to apologise.<p>

The three days before Darcy left to London passed quickly. Georgiana thought of Elizabeth at times but was kept too busy to dwell on it. Darcy also thought of Elizabeth far more often than he would have liked, the vision of a fine pair of eyes dancing with laughter intruded at the most inopportune times.

Mrs Younge asked for time to herself, having discovered that an old friend was in Ramsgate, as was given a whole morning to herself when Darcy and Georgiana went for a long drive in the country. She seemed very pleased when they met up again when they got back, but was not forthcoming with any details on her friend, being extremely vague when asked.

The end of his week arrived faster than Darcy had expected, and he could not shake a sense of disappointment to be leaving. But, duty called him to London, so bidding farewell to Mrs Younge and giving his sister a hug goodbye, an oddly wearied Darcy climbed into his carriage for the day and half trip.


	15. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 4

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 4**

The morning after Darcy had left Mrs Younge suggested to Georgiana that she to go to visit Elizabeth and Amy-Jane at their home, explaining that she had things to do that would only bore a young girl. Georgiana was unsettled by her brother's behaviour and was certain that his rudeness after their outing would mean Elizabeth would not be keen on furthering the acquaintance. Mrs Younge assured Georgiana that since she had apologised on Mr Darcy's behalf, Elizabeth should still be welcoming, and by going now rather than delaying would assure Elizabeth how valued their friendship was to Georgiana. Convinced by Mrs Younge's active promotion of it, Georgiana left almost straight away.

Thankfully Mrs Carter's house was only a short distance away, as Georgiana's nervousness increased with every step she took. Had it been much further, she likely would have become so nervous that she would have returned home. But there she was, already standing at the door. With a tentative knock a very nervous Georgiana waited, in anticipation of whether she would be received at all.

That it was Elizabeth that answered, not Mrs Carter, who Georgiana had not met, made it easier. But the sudden broad smile that crossed Elizabeth's face and the excited cry of "Amy-Jane, Georgiana is here to see us", most of Georgiana's concerns melted away. It was almost as if the unpleasantness had never happened. Amy-Jane ran up to her yelling "'Giana, 'Giana, Kitty has missed you" and wrapped her arms around Georgiana's in a crushing hug.

"Amy-Jane, take our visitor to the parlour." Elizabeth said gesturing to the door just off the entrance. "I'll be with you in a moment". She disappeared into the back of the house.

Amy-Jane took Georgiana's hand and led her into a smallish room, that was tastefully decorated, with nice, if rather well used furniture. Georgiana went over to a settee and sat down. All the while Amy-Jane chatted to Georgiana about all the things she had seen and done since their last meeting. They were still talking when Elizabeth arrived with a tray of tea things. Elizabeth pre-empted an expected apology from Georgiana.

"It is very good to see you Georgiana, I had not expected it so soon."

This caught Georgiana a little by surprise, she had been trying to compose a suitable apology in her head while waiting for Elizabeth, but Amy-Jane's chatter had made it difficult.

Seeing that Georgiana was still a little flustered, Elizabeth continued. "I suppose your brother has departed for London already." It was more a statement than a question, but it gave Georgiana a safe topic to discuss while she regained her composure.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam left yesterday. Mrs Younge is busy and suggested that I come to see you."

Realising what she had just said, Georgiana blushed strongly then stammered. "Oh dear, that's not what I meant, I didn't need to be told to come here... I wanted to, really."

"Do not fret, I knew what you meant. Here is your tea. Sugar?"

Once again Georgiana realised how easily Elizabeth had defused the situation, how she wished she was able to command a conversation like that. It was at times like this she felt the greatest mortification of her lack of sociability.

"No, thank you." Georgiana took her cup and paused while waiting for Elizabeth to pour her own.

"Amy-Jane, maybe you would like to go play with Billy?" Elizabeth said to her daughter, without looking around. It could have been deliberate, as Amy-Jane would have preferred to stay with them, the look on her face would have caused a rebuke if her mother had seen it. But she was an obedient child and, saying goodbye to Georgiana, she left the room soon after.

"Elizabeth, I am so sorry about my brother. He is not normally like that."

"Do not worry. Yes, at the time I was annoyed, but after talking to Mrs Carter, I felt much better. My only worry was to have lost your friendship."

"Oh no, you will never do that. He was very annoyed at the time, but seemed calmer later. I did ask to see you, he didn't say no to it, but we were very busy so I could not come."

"So where did you go?"

The conversation carried on to Georgiana's outings of the last few days with her brother. Georgiana could not sense any indication that Elizabeth felt any resentment or animosity towards Fitzwilliam, but was feeling disappointed that what he had done prevented her brother and her new friend, to whom she already felt closer to than anyone other than him, could no longer be friendly.

As the conversational value of Georgiana's recent outings dried up, it turned to Amy-Jane. Elizabeth had the ability to relate the little things that her daughter did or said in such a humorous way that Georgiana found extremely diverting. After a second cup of tea, the two ladies then talked on more general subjects. After a little time, the front door was heard to open. Georgiana took that to mean it was time to take her leave, but Elizabeth told her to sit and called out, "Mrs Carter, we are in here."

Mrs Carter came in only a few moments later. She was a handsome woman, in her early fifties. Her husband had been a lot older than her, and she was his second wife. He was a childless widower whose gentry connections had obtained for him the living as rector at Lambton upon his first marriage. She was the only child of the Lambton chandler, but had lost her father while still young. Even with the difference in age, it was a love match. Mrs Carter had been fairly wild but her marriage to Mr Carter bought a great deal of steadiness to her nature, and she kept him young. They also had the one child, who they were very pleased to see her marry for love also. Ill for a number of years, Mr Carter had survived long enough to see his only child marry, but not his first grandchild. Mrs Carter was devastated by her loss.

After his death, the Darcy's had been very generous in offering to allow her to stay for as long as she liked in the Lambton manse as the new rector was single and they had provided a smaller cottage which was much more suitable for a bachelor. But Mrs Carter found it hard to stay in a place so full of happy memories now forever lost, and made arrangements to retire with her husband's aunt that lived in Ramsgate. The Gardeners had offered for her to stay with them but she had preferred the solitude that came from caring from a much older lady that was very frail and nearly deaf. The elderly aunt passed away soon after her arrival in Ramsgate leaving Mrs Carter the house. Once again the Gardeners offered for her to stay with them, but again she refused, preferring to mourn her husband and live quietly alone, waiting in anticipation for her own passing. Mrs Gardener became more and more concerned with the way her mother had stopped living after her father had died, but whatever she tried, she could not rekindle her mother's zest for life.

It was the arrival of Elizabeth and her baby that managed what Mrs Gardener had not. Mrs Carter was reluctant to take in a fallen woman and her illegitimate child, even after her daughter's explanation of the events. But it was soon very clear that Elizabeth had only made a single serious mistake, however disastrous the consequences to her and her family, and was more a victim of her parent's poor actions afterwards.

Elizabeth's personal integrity and moral strength in choosing her own path – even if Mrs Carter would have chosen differently – and then cheerfully living with the consequences of the choice, however hard it made her life, left Mrs Carter with a growing respect for this courageous young lady. It didn't hurt that the daughter, Amy-Jane, was a precocious wee thing, reminding Mrs Carter of herself as a child. Within a year, Elizabeth had become like a daughter and Amy-Jane a granddaughter to her. Mrs Gardener was delighted to see how her mother slowly returned to the land of the living from her half-life previously.

Mrs Carter breezed in, unwrapping from her outerwear as she went. Her shopping bags had been dropped at the door as she had arrived. With an excited rush of words she gushed; "Is the tea still hot? Oh, sorry dear, don't mind me. Is this Miss Darcy? My, haven't you grown? I suppose you don't remember me, but my dear husband was the Rector at Lambton for many years before he died, and I know your family so well, your dear mother was such a wonderful lady, it was a great loss to all of us. And your dear father too, but more recently. You must miss them both dreadfully. I miss my dear Mr Carter, but Elizabeth and little Amy-Jane have been such a joy. You are lucky to have met them, but you must know this, don't you? Well I am so glad that…"

Georgiana was not given a chance to reply to the stream of questions and comments from Mrs Carter however Elizabeth was much more used to it so just interrupted directly.

"Mrs Carter."

"…you have finally…" Mrs Carter turned to Elizabeth. "What is it, dear?"

Elizabeth smiled. "This is my good friend Miss Georgiana. Yes, she is the Miss Darcy I have told you about. Georgiana, this is my Aunt Gardener's mother, Mrs Carter."

Georgiana managed a quiet "Hello" but appeared incapable of anything more. Thankfully Mrs Carter paused and got herself a cup of tea. Elizabeth lent over to Georgiana and whispered, "Do not worry, she is just very excited as you are a connection to her old home, she has not been back since her husband died and she moved here to look after his aunt."

As Mrs Carter sat down, Elizabeth took the lead in the conversation, carefully engaging or redirecting the older lady's questions for the visitor until she saw that Georgiana was more comfortable. That Georgiana and Mrs Carter had many shared memories of the people and places in and around Lambton quickly put Georgiana at ease. As the conversation carried on to a third cup of tea, Georgiana felt very important, in being able to bring an old Lambtonite up to speed with all the goings on from her home town.

In return Mrs Carter was able to provide Georgiana a sketch of her parents, and how they were perceived by the locals around Pemberly. The different stories Georgiana heard, particularly about her mother were bittersweet, but somehow Elizabeth was able to add a comment or question that prevented the conversation from becoming too maudlin.

After a while Amy-Jane returned. She entered the room in full flight, just like her Granny Carter, with a commentary on what she had just been up to and complaining that Billy only "plays silly boys games" and "gets all cry-y when I best him". Elizabeth corrected her behaviour entering a room when adult were talking, to which she apologised very nicely.

Elizabeth went to shoo her from the room, but Mrs Carter, who was rather indulgent towards her adopted granddaughter, asked that she could stay, to which her mother could only acquiesce. Georgiana was asked if she would join their mid-day repast. While she initially refused, she could not hold out against all three's entries to change her mind. In the end Georgiana spent the rest of the afternoon at the Carter's, although Mrs Carter took Amy-Jane off soon after lunch to have a nap, leaving Elizabeth and Georgiana to once again have a private conversation. Sharing lunch overcome the last vestiges of awkwardness Georgiana had felt about the way they had parted company the last time they had met, when her brother had been so rude.

* * *

><p>"Is she gone?" George Wickham asked from the doorstep.<p>

"Yeah. She's found a local, unmarried mum that she's friendly with. I'm encouraging her to visit. No matter, come in." Mrs Younge opened the door and led him to the front parlour.

"Any chance of spotting me a fiver, cousin?"

"You don't change a bit, do you?"

Wickham stayed silent just tilted his head to one side and flashed his most winning grin.

Mrs Younge continued, "Yes, I suppose so, Mr Darcy left Miss Georgiana a generous allowance, she won't miss that much… but no more for now."

Wickham wandered over to the decanters while Mrs Younge sat down. He helped himself to the whiskey in the decanter and took a sip, and said with a sarcastic tone, "Well, Darcy spared no expense for his guests at Ramsgate."

"I suspect it is the owner's, I don't think Mr Darcy bought any from Darcy House."

"That'll explain it. The Darcy cellar has only the best. I should know, I've drunk enough of it! Anyway, you want a glass of the Madeira?"

"Thanks George."

George tossed back the whiskey and poured two glasses of the wine, hoping that it would be from the Darcy cellar this time. Taking the glass, he sat down next to her. "Your letter was lucky to have caught me, I was about to leave town soon. Glad to be rid of that place!"

"Creditors started asking for payment?"

"Yeah, the dunning letters started. Ever since Sumerville got the pet with me over… never mind what… he's not willing to have me around. Tuffy follows where ever Sumers lead, and Lord Fenwick has never wanted to know me. Without Sumerville, creditors think they can hit me up for payment, but they've got another thing coming if I'll waste my blunt on old bills."

"So where else can't you return now?"

"Bath. Doesn't matter, mostly oldies – although a few merry widows were worth the attention." George then changed the subject. "About this proposition of yours, well, out with it."

Mrs Younge wanted to hear the latest Bath gossip, but was prepared to wait for a more appropriate time, when George would be more willing to give away those little secrets and details that would prove lucrative, in time. So she allowed the topic to change.

"Here's the thing, George. Young Georgiana still thinks the sun shines out your arse. Darcy obviously hasn't told her about your last meeting and thankfully you've never played away at Pemberly, well at least not recently."

"Didn't get the chance." Interjected Wickham. "Bloody Darcy."

"Actually that's for the best, means Georgiana don't know you that well. So, the plan is, with my help, you'll be given lots of time with her. A man of your talent should be able to charm her into eloping, and after the marriage we will share her 30,000 pounds between us."

"But she's just a girl, bit young for me! I was planning on waiting a few years before trying for her dowry."

"She's grown up a lot since January last year, you'll see. Anyway, wait any longer and Darcy will have her out on the marriage mart with the Countess as her duenna, I know I'm just being paid to prepare her. Once with the Countess you'll have no chance of getting even close to her. She knows all of her son's friends and I doubt she'll let any of them get even a whiff of her virginal charms."

"You're probably right. No worries, I'll do it. Always easier if you're not fighting a pack of other hopeful gentlemen off at the same time. How long have I got?"

"We are supposed to be here three months, but Darcy will be back at least once before then, so I'd say you've got about a month."

"Two weeks should do it, three at worst. When's she back?"

"Don't know, she's gone off to Elizabeth Smith's place, maybe before luncheon, maybe after."

"Who's this Elizabeth Smith?"

Mrs Younge proceeded to explain who Elizabeth was, described her and her daughter, how they met and anything else she knew. She cautioned Wickham he had to focus on Georgiana and to stay away from Elizabeth, when his eyes lit up after he heard she was very pretty and then also an unmarried mother.

"She is not like that, so don't even think it. Anyway you've got to concentrate on Georgie."

"Don't worry yourself, I know what the game is about. You've prepared the ground?"

"Of course, I've talked up romance and sensibility. She's been fed as much gothic novels as I've been able to get past Mr Darcy. She's ripe for the plucking. Old enough for you anyway."

"I hope so, I ain't cradle snatching. You know I appreciate them a bit more 'mature' than she is." The quotes around mature was obvious from the way he said it. By this stage the two of them were far closer together than propriety would allow. Their actions subsequent to his last statement threw propriety out the window, and ran it over with a gig, then backed over it again.

* * *

><p>A while later, they were standing back on the doorstep, George Wickham making final adjustments to his attire and looking like the cat that got the cream. Mrs Younge was also looking very pleased. As always Wickham was at his most loquacious in the pillow talk afterwards. What he had related about what he, and others, had been up to in Bath could well prove lucrative when she would, once again, part ways with him.<p>

"Right, so you know the plan."

"Just get her down the waterfront tomorrow morning, and I'll do the rest." And with that impatient statement, whistling jauntily, he skipped down the steps and down the street, with the sound of the door closing behind him.


	16. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 5

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 5**

Darcy sat in the Darcy House library nursing a glass of burgundy, ruefully aware that it was the last bottle of this vintage in his cellar. Yet another area the war with Napoleon had unexpected consequences. Even cheaper Spanish wine could be hard to obtain at a cost worth considering. Whatever the cost, Richard was due back to London soon, so he would have to restock the cellar.

Darcy hoped Richard's arrival would improve his mood. He recognised that he was of a taciturn nature, but just recently he felt a general discontentedness. Nothing he could put his finger on. In an unusual introspective humour, he turned inwards and pondered his current state of mind. He supposed these feelings to have appeared because Georgiana was at Ramsgate, the very start of the process that would eventually mean the only remaining member of his immediate family leaving when she marries another. Thinking about it, Darcy hoped she was able to find someone suitable, one that she could grow to love, but feared that as she was a considerable matrimonial prize she could be convinced to fall in love with someone unsuitable, and he did not wish to have to break her heart when he refused the match.

Darcy went to take another sip of his wine, but was surprised to find the glass empty. Looking around he saw that the nearest candles had started guttering, have burnt themselves to stubs. Darcy gave a weak smile as he rose, thinking that he would go to see Bingley tomorrow. He had dealt with all the correspondence and items left unattended that had built up with less than a fortnight's absence. Bingley never failed to cheer him up, something about his nature required you to match his happy disposition, although even he had been acting a bit off colour recently. As he left the library, Darcy wondered what might have happened about Charles's latest flirt... Janet… no, Jane. Doesn't matter, he was certain he will hear all about it over lunch.

* * *

><p>As expected, Charles's invitation came as soon as it appeared that he knew that Darcy was back in town. Darcy barely had finished breaking his morning fast when it arrived, sitting on top of the morning newspaper. In its usual poor blotchy scribble, Charles asked if Darcy could possibly meet at his earliest convenience, as he deliberately? No that didn't make sense… ah… desperately needed Darcy's help.<p>

With a sigh and a glance at the unread newspaper, Darcy bounded upstairs muttering "A friend in need is a friend indeed, and indeed, young Charles seems to find himself in need a lot... Heavens, I hope he hasn't already got engaged and now wants me to extract him from it… He's certainly impulsive enough, but I cannot see him being that stupid. Oh, actually, I can. Oh, what stupid thing have you done now?"

* * *

><p>Darcy bounded up the stairs to the Bingley's residence, in his usual long legged fashion. Bingley's butler, knowing that Mr Darcy was expected, had stationed himself by the front door, to open it as soon as Mr Darcy was seen. Even still, the Butler only just had the front door open when Darcy entered.<p>

"Welcome, Mr Darcy. So pleased to see you back in town."

"Glad to be back, Hulme. How are you?"

"Back still a little sore, but can't complain. Your housekeeper's remedy is doing wonders. Thank you sir."

"I shall remember to get her to send a bit more round, you must be running low"

"Do not trouble yourself, sir I still have enough... Ah here we are".

This conversation had carried on as Hulme escorted Darcy to Bingley's library. The butler opened the door and announced Darcy.

"Darcy! So glad you came." Bingley bounced out of the rich red leather wing chair he had been sitting in. Darcy had noticed, in the moments before he was announced, Charles had just been sitting there staring off into space, which was most unlike his normally fidgety friend. With a glass of claret or port, also unusual this early in the day. His appearance was also unlike him. While almost always slightly rumpled, Charles was usually impeccable turned out, and yet here he was without having shaved or fully attired.

"That will be all Hulme." Then turning to Darcy, "Brandy? Maybe a Claret? No I suppose not... I suppose I shouldn't either." Charles looked morosely at his glass, then appeared to debate with himself for a moment before tossing it back and placing it, now empty, on the top of the ornate drinks cabinet. "Well at least no refill then."

Turning back to his guest, Charles said. "Please take a seat Darcy, I need your advice."

"What is it", said Darcy as he sat in a seat opposite where Charles had been sitting.

"It is about Jane."

Darcy sat watching his friend, knowing that silence will elicit more information than questions. Unexpectedly Charles also just sat, saying nothing. Darcy took this time to look more. Charles was not just failing to dress and maintain his toilet, his face looked drawn and his eyes slightly sunken and dull, with grey marks from a lack of sleep readily apparent. He also sat pulled in on himself, his shoulders slumped and even his generally restless feet were not fidgeting or tapping out some tune or another.

For all of Charles' preoccupation, Darcy could still out last him so, as expected, Charles, looked up and spoke first. "Well, Darcy, it's like this. I took your advice, and sent my man to Hertfordshire to enquire about the Bennet's. What he found out was not good, not good at all. No, Jane is not to be blamed in any of it, although it is bound to have affected her, and certainly ruined any chance of her having any kind of life in Hertfordshire."

Darcy said nothing, just tilted his head, and waited for Charles to continue.

Charles sighed heavily.

"It's like this Darcy. My man found that the little Jane did say was true, but I cannot blame her for saying more." Charles searched around, picking up a letter and passed it over. From the number of creases, it had been read many times. "Here Darcy, read this. It explains a lot."

Darcy opened the letter. Thankfully Charles's Man of Business' handwriting was the complete opposite of his master. In beautiful copperplate, the facts were relayed in almost clinical fashion.

"So she is a gentlewoman" Darcy muttered, reading about Mr Bennet's owning the estate of Longbourn.

"Yes, there is that." Charles looked anxiously at Darcy, hoping that he would see Jane's circumstances as eliciting sympathy not censure.

"Not a very good master, if the report of his estate is to be believed..." Charles face fell. He knew Darcy's view on the importance of a gentleman managing his estate well.

Darcy continued. "I'd estimate both a higher income if properly was cared for and a lower with this level of neglect, but a fair estimate for someone that is not an actual steward."

Charles explained. "Adams has been corresponding with David Brown. Your steward has been very helpful giving Adams pointers, since I intend to have him continue on as steward once I buy an estate."

"Well, David Brown is a remarkable man. I know old Mr Wickham hoped that maybe his son would take over, but… never mind. Where was I?" Darcy looked back at the letter, while reading, muttering aloud the most pertinent of the information.

"…little is said about the Bennet's…"

"…not often seen in town…"

"…not generally accepted at social events…"

"…ah, several people mention Jane Bennet, in glowing terms it seems…"

"…a daughter's disgrace handed Mrs Bennet her comeuppance…"

"…ah, it was the younger or youngest sister in trouble a few years ago… then it just says 'then she left for London'..." Darcy looked back at Charles. "Who left for London? He does not say."

"I asked him that question myself. It appears the next younger sister was in disgrace and left for London, or went to London and then disgraced herself. He was not able to tell me which, although he said it appears to be both, which make no sense. Does that make sense to you, Darcy?"

"No. Anyway I will continue."

"…several more sisters, no sons… with an entail. Well that is not usually made common knowledge, but could explain the neglect…"

"…only one daughter still at home, but no marriage notices for the others…I wonder where the others are?"

For Charles a great deal of time had passed since Darcy had started reading. "Well that explains her reluctance to talk about her family or siblings, but in her favour is that she did not try to invent a false history."

Charles hands were twining around each other with nervous energy. Charles had slowly been leaning forward as Darcy read through the information provided, but as Darcy finished and looked back up, Charles suddenly stood up and started pacing the room.

Darcy watched again, giving his friend time to compose his thoughts and questions, and preparing his own answers to the questions relating to Jane's situation he expected to come. When Charles finally put his thoughts in order, his first question was, "Darcy... Darcy, what is your view on marriage?"

Darcy's eyes widened in surprise, this was definitely not what he expected. There was a considerable pause as Darcy collected his own thoughts.

"Well, Charles, we are all taught that marriage is an alliance between families. Take either my or your parents. You must see how both marriages joined each of the families together. I have always been told that a good marriage joins two equals, or at least two people that might not be actual equals as they have slightly different status, one connections or land, the other wealth, so their strengths and weaknesses complement each other. It is obvious the choice in marriage partner is one of the most important decisions a gentleman can make. And I was often cautioned by my father about the many pitfalls for a single man, leading to an imprudent marriage."

Charles paced, listening as Darcy continued. "Take my situation as case in point, I am a very desirable prize on the marriage mart. I have the misfortune to have already inherited the estate of Pemberley and the wealth that comes with that. On top of that I am connected to the Earl of Matlock and the De Burghs. I get invited to all the best events of the ton. Any number of girls thrust themselves at me or are dangled by their parents. Even my Aunt, Lady Catherine has this misguided notion I will marry her daughter Anne. But that will not happen, a man definitely needs heirs, and she certainly is not healthy enough to provide them..."

"Ah, there is another reason we are instructed for our choice in marrying... heirs. Have at least an heir and a spare. Avoid having only girls. Yes, definitely avoid only having girls. Uncle Henry is in that position, I doubt he is having fun marrying off his four, particularly when he knows his wastrel younger brother is to inherit it all. And his youngest, Alice, what an impertinent bit of baggage she is. Did you know she suggested that Uncle Henry breaks up his estate..."

Darcy suddenly realised he had departed somewhat from the question asked, so abruptly changed tack. "While you, Charles, do not have the same connections or a long ancestry, your position and inheritance also makes you a valuable prize as well. You should be mindful of that."

"Yes, yes, Darcy I know all that. I am sure our fathers gave very similar lectures." There was a growing tone of exasperation creeping into Charles words. "But what do YOU think?"

This comment made Darcy realise that he had just been repeating what he had been taught. He sat for a moment, stroking his chin with his left hand.

"I am not sure how much of that I honestly believe, Charles. It is all good advice for sure, but... But for me there has to be something more. Your choice is so important, with such long term consequences. She will be your companion, helpmate, and the mother of your children. It must be someone that you respect. They have to be worthy of you and you of them." Darcy's thoughts were coming out in a rush. "She has to be intelligent, yes, at least enough to converse with, attractive enough to keep you interested. Also a clear healthy complexion and a robust nature, as shown by being a good walker. A bit of impertinence can be very attractive as can a willingness to challenge your views, you might just learn something."

Darcy's voice had started to sound slightly wistful with his final statements. He then abruptly stood up and walked to the unlit fireplace.

"But with all of that she must be someone you love or maybe, grow to love. My parents had that. Yes, you need to love your marriage partner. My parents showed that a deep abiding love is more important than any of the other considerations."

With that it was Darcy's turn to stare into the distance, focussing only nothing in particular.

Charles knew not to disturb his friend just at these moments, so took the time to pour himself a second glass of claret and then another, for Darcy, in silence. Handing over the glass when Darcy appeared to return to the present, Charles continued his line of questions.

"So Darcy, how do you know if you love them or, they you?"

"Charles, this is about you and Jane, is it not?"

"Yes. I know I care for her more than I can say, she is an angel."

"So are you actually courting?"

"I do not know. I think we are, but I obviously have not asked her father. Do you think I should?"

"I cannot advise you there. Maybe you should talk to Jane's uncle."

"Yes, I suppose I should. Yes, yes, I should."

"You realise that by formally courting Jane, you will be bound by honour to offer for her."

"Do you think she will have me, when I do?"

Darcy noticed the 'when' rather than an 'if'. "Of course. She is in no position to refuse anyone. It is whether you should be willing to offer for her at all."

"I suppose I will, in time. Would she be accepted by society if I did?"

"If your man's information is correct, that is not in her favour. Can you ignore that? There are a number of sisters, but you only know a little of Jane and the one that stayed at home."

"Darcy, what if there is more?"

"Well, man, find out."

"How?"

Darcy face-palmed. Sometime Charles really could not see the wood for the trees. "Obviously you need to send you man back to ... where ever her father's estate is, to get more information."

"Do you think so?"

"No, Charles, I just said it just to annoy you. Of course I think so."

"Oh." Charles looked pensive for a moment then turned towards the door to his study "Back shortly."

* * *

><p>True to his word George Wickham wasted no time. As arranged, he met Georgiana the very next morning after his and Mrs Younge's planning session. He used Georgiana's strong impression of his kindness to her when she was a child to rebuild the acquaintance and foster her admiration of him. Playing on her growing realisation of her developing maturity, ably assisted by Mrs Younge's reinforcement of her grown-up nature, he downplayed their age and maturity gap. Spending freely from Georgiana's own allowance that Mrs Younge happily plundered on his behalf, he showered the young girl with little gifts and generally gave the impression of a gentleman of leisure.<p>

For Georgiana, this was the first time an eligible handsome gentleman had treated her as a desirable woman in her own right, not just as Darcy's younger sister. He liked all the same music she did, the same with poetry and literature. She knew this was not just him humouring her, as she never told him of her tastes, he suggested these things without prompting.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth noticed this handsome man squiring her new friend around Ramsgate, off on this or that excursion. Without being able to put her finger on it, he seemed familiar. Could she have met him earlier? His manner and turn of phrase certainly bought back memories of her disastrous time in London, but she was fairly certain they had not met in London. Whatever the case, Elizabeth was certain that he could not be trusted.<p>

The few times that Georgiana was able to convince both George and Mrs Younge to allow Elizabeth to accompany them, and then equally, trying to convince Elizabeth to come with them, gave Elizabeth plenty of time to characterise Mr Wickham as just another 'fine gentleman'. The most disturbing thing for Elizabeth was the way that Mr Wickham and Mrs Younge seem overly familiar, but only when they thought that both Georgiana and herself were not looking. But Elizabeth's experience as a mother meant she was more aware of what was happening out of her sight than the two of them thought. There were too many sudden separations, too many looking in other directions when they were being observed, but still too close together that propriety allowed.

Then there was the language. Georgiana was far too innocent to understand the double entendre that peppered both Mr Wickham's and Mrs Younge's speech, but her own circumstances meant she was fully aware of the other meanings for what they said. Mrs Younge was the worst of the two, and in one instance got a severe rebuke via a furious stare from Mr Wickham.

Elizabeth could see that, in even this short time Georgiana had become infatuated with Mr Wickham, and it appeared that her companion, rather than protect her young charge, was complacent, even abetting his charm offensive. It was obvious to Elizabeth that Georgiana's regard was not returned in equal measure, and it was very likely, for all the wealth he displayed, Mr Wickham was likely a fortune hunter.

Wickham found Elizabeth's lively nature and pleasing shape very attractive. With Mrs Younge not often in a position of being alone, Wickham decided that a little diversion while pursing Georgiana was in order. Knowing Elizabeth was an unmarried mother Wickham then endeavoured to find the appropriate moment to proposition her. Finding her eating dinner at a local establishment, he smiled and sat at her table.

He started a conversation that his table companion took little part in. Not noticing this, he carried on. She seemed amenable to it, until he made it clear what, exactly, he was after. To his surprise he was completely rebuffed. Not recognising she really meant no, he pushed. In his experience, fallen gentlewoman often needed a little persuasion to overcome their nature. He was still in the process of softening her up, when Elizabeth stood up and, in front of everyone, demanded he leave her at once. Stammering about a misunderstanding, he tried to calm her down. However, a huge hulk of a man, a Mr Hawke, obviously her current favourite, came over and offered him bodily harm he saw the wisdom of a judicious retreat.

After that, Elizabeth was very concerned and tried to talk to Georgiana about it. Unfortunately, Wickham had already seen this as a possibility, so he had managed to get in ahead of her, convincing Georgiana that Elizabeth was becoming jealous of Georgiana's good fortune, where Elizabeth was unlikely to ever have a serious suitor, and thus might just say something that was hurtful and even maybe untrue. The realisation that she had a beau, with its possibility of being married, clouded her vision and prevented Georgiana from thinking about it rationally. As a result Elizabeth and Georgiana had their first argument. Georgiana, in particular said things she later regretted. Their argument they didn't see each other for nearly a week.

* * *

><p>It was a week later that Elizabeth, reading the latest letter from Jane, received a visit from Georgiana.<p>

"Georgiana, welcome. How wonderful to see you."

"Sorry to bother you, but I need to talk to someone."

"No problem, dearest. Amy is currently resting so we will not be disturbed. What is it?"

"It is just I'm worried about the future. I know Fitzwilliam hates being chased by all the matrons looking to marry him off to their daughters, but what if he marries and she doesn't like me?"

"I would not worry Georgie, I am sure your brother will choose well, and anyone who gets to know you will like you."

"But Lizzie, what if she is mean to me and forces him to marry me off to a horrid old man, just like in the _Tribulations of a Young Maid._?"

"Georgie, that is a book, I am sure the author has invented the whole thing."

"But you can be made to marry someone you detest, I know it can happen."

"You know nothing of the sort, Georgie. You have to consent. This I do know from experience!"

Georgiana was quiet for a moment. Elizabeth could tell that she was wondering whether to ask the obvious next question.

"Lizzie... umm..." Georgiana blushed furiously and fell silent.

"Why didn't I marry Amy Jane's father? "

Georgiana nodded.

"I didn't love him. I couldn't respect him. In fact I would never love him. I know for certain he didn't respect me. Then my father wanted to force me to marry someone else. And they had to be bribed to marry me once I refused to marry the father."

"But at least you would be married."

"Marriage without love and respect is not marriage but a prison in a different form, or at least it is for a woman. A man gets to escape if he wants."

"So you defied your father?"

"Yes I had to."

"Truly, you defied him?

"I chose my own happiness and a life for my child ahead of society's expectations."

"So going against your father, your family was worth it?"

"In the long run, on balance it was."

"Even if you will never get to marry."

Dear Georgie, don't assume I get no offers. I have had a few, but turned them all down.

"But you would marry if you got a good offer?"

"Yes, but only if it was from a man I can love and respect... And that I am certain that he loves and respects me. That is equally important."

"So how can you tell?"

"It is not easy. Does he listen to you? Does he consider your views? Your opinions? Is he attentive? How well do you know him? Think about all of these things."

"So if he does all those things he loves and respects you?"

"Well, it is not that simple, but yes, that is part of it. The rest you will know, instinctively."

"So what about his position and wealth, Lizzie?"

"Not as important, there must always be some consideration of these, but it is the character of the man that is far more important. But don't rush into it, dear. You have many years before you have to worry about this. And your brother is a man of, ...mostly good sense and intelligence."

"So if I love him and he loves me, that is the most important thing?"

"In essence, yes..."

At that, Georgiana stood up, and walking to the door said, "I see. Thank you Lizzie, you have been really helpful. But, have to go. Goodbye."

Somewhat surprised, Elizabeth could only reply, "Oh, goodbye, Georgie. Come back again soon."

After Georgiana left, Elizabeth replayed the conversation in her mind. With a growing sense of unease, she knew she had been speaking to Georgiana only in the broad generalities, but Georgiana was talking about a very specific marriage. And that could only mean Mr Wickham. Was Georgiana considering marrying him? What if she was? She was obviously too young. Her brother would not allow it.

Elizabeth's heart dropped, she had almost recommended that she ignore her brother if he forbade it. What if Georgiana didn't tell him? Didn't ask for permission, just eloped? It was certainly considered a romantic action in the dreadful novels Georgiana seemed to like the most. Well that, and attempted forced marriages by wicked relatives.

She had to know if it was possible or not. But how? She sat for a long period time just thinking. Mrs Carter, noticing how distracted Elizabeth seemed, took Amy Jane out with her to the waterfront. Finally it came to Elizabeth, eloping meant travelling to anywhere in Scotland by boat, or off to Gretna Green by carriage. Given how green Mr Wickham had become on their only waterborne excursion, it would have to be by carriage. Carriage meant horses, and, as the local farrier, Mr Hawke would know anything that was horse related happening anywhere in Ramsgate. Elizabeth hurried off to ask this favour of him. He was only too happy to help, assuring her that if anyone could find out, he would.

Sure enough, the next day Mr Hawke was able to let Elizabeth know a gentleman had arranged a coach to leave from the Black Boar in three days time, paying the large cost of taking it all the way to Scotland.

There was nothing else to do, feeling in many ways responsible, Elizabeth took a good proportion of her meagre savings to do so, wrote a one page note and sent it express to Georgiana's brother.

* * *

><p>It was just over a week later when Darcy's morning newspaper had on top of it a note from Charles. It appeared that Adams had come back from Hertfordshire with a much more detailed report and he wanted to come over to talk with Darcy, knowing Darcy was expecting his cousin to arrive any day now. Darcy wrote a quick note saying that his cousin had arrived, but was visiting with his parents today, so Charles could come any time he wished. Darcy then gave this to a footman to deliver. Charles must have been sitting waiting his reply, as he arrived almost as soon as Darcy's footman returned from his errand.<p>

"Darcy!" Charles exclaimed as he strode into the Darcy Library, well ahead of Steele, the Darcy Butler, who was trying to announce him. With a wave of his hand Darcy, let Steele know he was neither needed, nor was Darcy concerned about Bingley's breach of good manners.

"So what is it Bingley?"

"Adams has found out everything. I don't know what to do." Thrusting a number of pages at him, Charles said, "Here, you read it."

Darcy opened Adam's report as Charles slopped down in a loose manner into the nearest chair.

Sitting back, Darcy started reading. The information contained in this latest report was fairly damning of the Bennet family and their fall from grace. Adams reported that about 5 years ago, (must have been about the time Father died, Darcy thought) the two eldest girls accompanied their parents to London, purportedly to give the eldest a season. Great things were expected from this, as Jane was even now being talked about as still the prettiest maiden in the county. However the second eldest sister, Lizzie, who it must be said sounded like a real hoyden, got herself into serious trouble. However, rather than sending her off quietly to some relative, the Mother blurted it out in public, so instead of being a private matter, the whole town knew.

Then to compound the family' problems, the father managed to arrange a marriage (in reality, bribed someone to be the groom) for the wayward daughter, she refused to marry him and ran off to London instead. The mother seemed incapable of holding her tongue, and seemed as if she continues to talk freely about the disgrace her Lizzie inflicted on the family to all and sundry, just compounding the disgrace. As a result it appears that only one child, the youngest remained at home, who from all reports was as silly as her mother. The other three daughters certainly seemed to take the first opportunity to leave. Jane was the last to go, once again only complimentary things were said about her, and how she protected her younger siblings, including the wayward child, from their parents, until after the others that wanted to leave had done so. The recent story of her 21st birthday raise a wry smile from Darcy's lips, Jane certainly had spunk.

Information about Mr Bennet was still rather sparse. All the report contained was that he was never seen other than attending church, alone, every Sunday and was considered an intelligent man if a negligent landowner and father. If pressed, the locals generally described him as a broken man.

"So Charles, given that this is Jane's history, are you still considering courting her?"

"Yes, how can I not. You have read his report. Is there anything in there other than the highest praise for my angel?"

"Yes, in that you are correct. But are you sure you love her more than any of your previous 'angels'?"

"Darcy! How could you say that? No, this time it is different. She is the one!"

"And does she feel the same about you?"

At this question, Charles seemed to collapse in on himself. "I don't know. How can I know?" He said with a plaintive wail.

Darcy seemed shocked, surely Bingley must be in no doubt of her feelings?

"What do you mean? You do not know how she feels? It must be obvious." Darcy said, thinking of all of the woman he knew, and how obvious they were. "Woman are obvious in these things, they are by nature emotional creatures, not rational as men are."

"She is very reserved."

"Are you sure? Could it be that she is just not that enamoured of you as you are of her?"

"No, it can't be Darcy, you don't know her as I do."

"But I know woman, Bingley. Just for a moment, consider what I have to say, as a friend."

Charles looked at Darcy, brow furrowed.

"Bingley, you have to agree that Jane's prospects for marriage is not good, let alone a good marriage."

"Yes, I suppose."

"However a lady in her position, particularly one that is as beautiful as her, is far more likely to get an improper proposal than a proper one."

"No! Take that back!"

"Charles, please let me finish. Think about what Sumerville or Wickham would propose if they found out the same information you have. And it is not like Jane hides her background, even if she is not that forthcoming about it."

"Oh Lord, they would wouldn't they?"

"In a moment, without hesitation. So any proper courtship, as you have offered, is unlikely?"

"I suppose."

"You suppose, huh. You know."

"Yes, it is unlikely. So what if you are right?"

"She appears to be an intelligent lady?"

"Yes. Yes she is."

"So she will know what her chances are too?"

"Yes", said Charles. "But what does that have to do with it?"

"Consider this. Firstly, she knows that she is only ever likely to get improper suggestions. Then you come along and offer proper courtship. Yet rather than demonstrate her regard for you she is reserved, knowing that any encouragement is likely to bring you more quickly to the point."

Holding up his hand, Darcy prevented Charles from interjecting. "Secondly, she has demonstrated considerable honesty, allowing you to easily find her family, with no attempt to disguise or invent history, so she must put great store in honesty as a virtue."

At this point Charles just looked puzzled at this chain of logic.

Darcy continued. "So her best course of action is to show much more regard than she feels to anyone that could offer her a path back to respectability? Is that not correct?"

"I guess so?"

"So given that you cannot tell if Jane has regard for you, is it not more likely that she does not care for you at all but, given her circumstances, cannot discourage you? Yet her innate honesty prevents her from acting besotted as any other woman would do so?"

"So what does that mean?"

"It means Bingley, mostly likely, and in my opinion only, the lady probably loves another, but knows that they will not offer for her. So she neither encourages you, as that would not be right, but her circumstances do not allow her to discourage you either. She is trapped into accepting you regardless of her feelings."

"She is not like that! If she loves another I would be able to tell."

"Look Charles, all ladies, even your saintly Jane, are natural actors. Men are the last to know. Look at your sisters, for the closest example."

Charles sat dejected not saying nothing. Darcy carried on, his innate honesty adding.

"Well I suppose my sister is not at that stage, but only because she is too young to need to. But even then, she seems to be able to cry on demand. That is how she convinced me about allowing her to go to Ramsgate. Against my better judgement, I must add."

Charles got up and silently walked over to the drinks cabinet. Pouring himself a good measure of whiskey, he downed it in one go. Darcy watched in amazement as he poured another, and carried it back to his chair. Looking like a half drowned puppy he whined, "What do I do?"

"Are you prepared to marry for love, knowing that she is not?"

"I don't know."

"Have you given any actual expectation of an offer?"

"Not in so many words."

"In that case, you have all the time in the world to think on it."

"But what should I do?"

Charles words were interrupted as a Steele came in carrying a letter. "Sir, this came express direct from Ramsgate."

"Who is it from Steele?"

"A Miss Elizabeth Smith, sir."

"Who? What? No matter." Darcy grabbed the letter and ripped it open. His face went white as he read about Wickham's plans for eloping with his sister.

"Steele! Steele!"

"Yes sir."

"I need a horse. Yes. Saddle my horse, right now! No, make that two. Saddle the one the Colonel uses when he's here, as well. Oh, and pack one set of saddle bags, I must go to Ramsgate at once."

"Leave it with me, sir."

Darcy took some time to compose himself. He wanted to throttle someone, anyone, and at this time Bingley was both close enough and almost being annoying enough to warrant it.

A few minutes later he looked at Bingley, "Charles. I am sorry I must ask you to leave. Something has come up. I must be away at once."

"But Darcy, what am I to do?"

Charles had followed Darcy as he grabbed a few things he would need from his study.

"Do not take this the wrong way Charles, but I really do not have time now. We can talk again later, when I am back."

"But when will that be?"

"I cannot say. But it should not be more than a week."

"A week? What will I do in the week you are away?" This provoked no response.

A minute or two later Charles tried again. "What will I do?"

Still no answer.

Charles followed Darcy out of the study. "Do I continue courting Jane or not?"

"Do whatever you want", came the terse reply.

"But I don't know what I want? Are you sure she doesn't love me."

By this stage Darcy was striding hurriedly through the Darcy town house towards the stables.

"Look, I cannot tell. I have not met her."

"That's not my fault. I tried, but you would not meet her."

By this stage Darcy had made it to the stables and, in typical fashion, the Darcy house servants had already saddled two horses and the head groom was at their heads, just waiting for the master to mount.

"Charles! Look, if she loves you, fine, continue as you have."

Darcy mounted.

"But what if she doesn't?"

As Darcy grabbed the other horse's reins and clicked his horse forward. First to Matlock house to collect Richard and then on to Ramsgate. As he rode out at a canter, he yelled back, "If she does not love you, walk away!"

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**Before I even started this story I had a fairly detailed full outline already written. Yet the writing of it does surprise even me, as this chapter did not come out the way I had expected it to. I am pleased with the result, and would be interested to read how you have found it. As always critiques are welcome, even if you dislike this story intensely (although I doubt you will have read this far through). Feel free to point out any mistakes or inaccuracies I have made.**


	17. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 6

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 6**

.

Darcy, by having to lead an extra horse through the streets of London, took longer than he would have preferred to reach the Earl of Matlock's residence. He made a mental note to get the head groom to ride it next time, while fervently hoping, there would not be a next time. Riding around to the stables, he dismounted and threw both sets of reins to the groom, calling out. "Brush them down, but do not unsaddle them. We will be back out shortly."

Well acquainted with the Matlock's residence, Darcy let himself in and hurried down the rear passages, intended only for servants. Heading for where he hoped Richard would be found, he surprised a number of servants, who did not expect to see a gentleman traversing their hallways. Darcy heard the sound of male voices as he approached the billiard room, which was as good as anywhere to start, so he headed in that direction.

Opening the double doors, Darcy was very pleased to see that he had, indeed, found his cousin, playing billiards with another in military uniform. Darcy waited until Richard noticed him, then gestured for Richard to accompany him back out into the hallway.

"What is it, Fitzwilliam?"

"Good to meet you too Richard."

"A soldier's life is too short to waste all that time on usual inane pleasantries. Anyway it must be business, you have that look about you."

"You surmise correctly. How are you placed for an trip to Ramsgate?"

"Anytime suits? It would be good to see Georgiana again. Is she well?"

"She was good health, the last letter I received. So, could you pack and leave right now?"

"Now? Explain yourself! First you say she is in good health, yet we need to leave immediately. What in HELL is going on?"

"Please, keep it down. Georgiana is okay, for now. But we need to leave right away, so it stays that way. I can tell you more once we are on the road". Darcy gestured with his head at the small numbers of servants that had chosen, just this moment, to clean that stretch of hallway.

"Fine. Just one moment."

Richard turned back towards the billiard room. "O'Connor."

"Yes, sir", came the reply in a melodic Irish lilt.

"Pack just the necessities, we are leaving as soon as we can."

"Aye, Sir."

"Oh, Sergeant, meet us in the stables when you are done."

"Sir." This last acknowledgement was said as O'Connor headed out of the billiard room and upstairs towards his colonel's rooms.

"Right Darcy, let's saddle up."

"I have bought a mount for you."

"But not one for O'Connor."

"I had not intended we be accompanied."

The two cousins were already retracing Darcy's steps.

"Don't mind O'Connor, he's been with me ever since Willard caught one early last year. He's completely trustworthy, and…" holding up a hand to prevent Darcy's next comment, "he could even be a better rider than you are. He's certainly better than I am."

Darcy just looked back at his cousin, with obvious scepticism.

"I know you don't believe me now, but you will. I've seen him ride up and then back down slopes that I would hesitate to walk up, taking insane risks to deliver orders in the heat of battle. Anyway, don't let your usual prejudices against the lower classes make up your mind in advance."

"I am not prejudiced. Just realistic."

"Listen to yourself, Darcy. Let's not argue about it. Just promise me you'll reserve judgement until you've witnessed his riding yourself."

"Very well."

"How about a wager on it, Darcy? Once out of London you take any route and he'll be able to keep up. That'll be fair given you will be riding Cicero and…"

"Cicero's still in Pemberly, I'm on Atticus, and I bought Terentia for you."

"Trust you to bring me the mare."

"And I'm on a gelding. She's a fine mount, better than most in London, and certainly better that any in your father's stables. Anyway Cicero plays up around crowds, Atticus and Terentia do not."

"Anyway, as you said, even Terentia is better than anything father has. If it is important to get there quickly, take her as a remount. I will be on the best father has, so O'Connor will have to follow you on father's second best hack, while you're on Atticus. For a full mile. Your choice of start and route."

"So what are you prepared to loose."

"Don't count on it. You will buy all the dinner and drinks tonight. Best claret and real French brandy."

"I was likely be paying in any case."

"But this at least gives you a chance to get me to pay for it."

"Done."

Soon after concluding the wager they reached the sables. The conversation ceases as both men assisted the groom to saddle up four additional horses. Richard arranged for all three remounts to have leading reins. Darcy and Richard discussed their travel plans, including when they would change horses and how late they could safely ride that night while waiting for O'Connor to arrive.

* * *

><p>They had left even the outskirts of London behind, making a fast pace at Darcy's insistence, when Richard turned to O'Connor.<p>

"Sergeant. Give us a little space."

"Aye, sir." Sergeant O'Connor reined in his horse and let the other two ride off ahead.

"So, Fitzwilliam, what on earth is going on?"

"I had an express from Ramsgate, warning me that Wickham has convinced Georgiana to elope!"

"What? You can't be serious! Who?"

"Wickham himself."

"No! It can't be."

"Unfortunately it is. Here read this." Darcy pulled the express from his waistcoat and passed it over.

Richard took a few moments to read the short note. Handing it back to Darcy he exclaimed, "He would not be that stupid, would he? Mrs Younge proved her worth."

"Why would you say that?"

"She obviously could not convince Georgiana to end this folly so sent an express."

"But she didn't send it. It came from Miss Smith."

"Who is this Miss Smith? Can she be trusted? Could she just be mischief-making."

"Miss Elizabeth Smith is a friend Georgiana's. She has a daughter, but for all of that I am sure she is trustworthy. If only because an express would not have been cheap, and she could not have much of an income to spare to waste it on simple mischief-making."

"Now I understand your pace and the need for remounts. Well, now I know the reason for the trip, I will go back and explain our wager to Sergeant O'Connor. Once I take over the leading reins, you can look for the starting line."

* * *

><p>It was about a half an hour later, when Darcy saw, as they came over the rise, a route that should prove particularly challenging. Turning to the enlisted man, Darcy said, "Ready". O'Connor nodded. "Right then, try to keep up." At that, Darcy spurred Atticus into a canter and promptly jumped a wide ditch and low stone wall combination, heading both down the slope and away from the road.<p>

It was more like a mile and a half, when Darcy, followed very closely by Sergeant O'Connor, reined in alongside Richard. Darcy turned to the Sergeant.

"I am impressed, that was some skill you displayed."

"Ye nearly 'ad me several times, sir. I were lucky."

"Do not under estimate your ability Sergeant, you have a rare skill."

"Thank ye, sir. I've been ridin' 'orses since I were a young lad, but I ain't seen many else who'd been able to do whet yer just did. Sir."

"Well done, Sergeant, Darcy's the best horseman I know. He's certainly up with the best in all of England. Anyway, there is a village only half a mile away, so shall we walk your horses to cool them down, and then swap mounts after taking some refreshment at the inn. You're paying."

"Hey, that was dinner and drinks afterwards."

"Yes, but it was only supposed to be a mile, you've gone nearly a mile and a half, so that means you stump up for these as well."

"Fine. Let's be off."

* * *

><p>The weather did not favour the travellers. As much as Darcy was in a hurry to get to Ramsgate, the late afternoon bought a thick layer of clouds, so it became too dark to see earlier than Darcy had hoped. They could not risk a tumble if one of the horses stumbled. Hoping that Elizabeth had given them enough warning, he reluctantly agreed to stop at the next inn for dinner and rooms for the night.<p>

Knowing that they had an early start Darcy consumed little of the fine Spanish red or French brandy, although the other two seemed to drink freely. Darcy even retired earlier, leaving the two soldiers to finish the brandy. Yet, the other two both were up before him and seemed in much better state than he. Something he had to put down to the rigors of campaigning.

Bring this up as they left the inn, the Colonel or the Sergeant used it as an excuse to try and outdo each other with stories about the worst depravations they had encountered while fighting Napoleon. If half of what they said was true or even only half as bad, Darcy had a much greater admiration of the men that put their life on the line defending mother England and the English way of life.

The clouds of last evening had dumped their load of rain and dispersed, leaving a brilliant late-summer, early-autumn morning. The heavy rain made the roads very muddy and progress was, initially, very slow. Had Darcy had not been engaged listening to the other two's one-upmanship, he would have fretted at the speed due to the cloying mud and the state of the roads. Thankfully by mid morning the mud had mostly dried and they swapped horses. On fresh horses and drier roads made much better time.

Darcy turned down Richard's half-hearted suggestion of a midday meal, wanting to press on, and aware that for two soldiers, missing a midday meal was probably more common than having one.

* * *

><p>Early afternoon saw the dusty and saddle sore trio arrive at the top of the last rise before Ramsgate. Looking down on the sleepy little coastal town, Darcy could not imagine that here Georgiana's whole future could have already been decided. On the approach Darcy mused on how easy would it be for such a man, well practiced in the arts of seduction, to lead an innocent girl to ruin. She would be disgraced and shunned, but how was this, her fault? Against a rake's deliberate machinations an innocent would be defenceless. But if she was ruined, Darcy was determined at that point to defend her to the last, and vowing to shun anyone that would not accept her.<p>

Trotting into town, they made their way directly to where Georgiana was staying. Richard and O'Connor looked at each other as Darcy, as soon as the house came into view, spurred his house into a final canter. They followed, more sedately, in the same trot they had been maintaining all the way through Ramsgate.

"Georgie!" Darcy called out as he dismounted and threw the reins over a hitching rail outside the stables. He was already down the back stairs and ready to enter the house as the other two arrived in the rear yard.

"Georgie! Georgie!" Darcy continued to yell as he walked through the kitchen and up the stairs into the main hallway, passing the cook and scullery maid, who just stood there watching the commotion, their preparation of dinner momentarily forgotten with this new entertainment.

"Georgiana! Where are you!" Darcy had made it to the front hall. He started to panic the repeated calls did not bring her into sight, or respond with a greeting of her own.

"You there. Ah, Helen, isn't it? Where is my sister, please?" Darcy had noticed one of the maids that came with the house scurrying down from upstairs.

"The mistress 'as gon' oot, sir."

"Do you know where, Helen?"

"Her and 'er lady wen' doon ta 'nade nea' da dooks."

Darcy stared at the chamber maid in total incomprehension. Her accent was particularly thick and, in his agitated state, he lacked the presence of mind to decipher it.

"Georgiana and her companion have taken a stroll heading west along the waterfront promenade to the boat moorings" Richard helpfully translated, having arrived in time to hear the maids reply.

Darcy turned to Richard. How did he manage to determine that from the gibberish the maid has spoken? Yet another skill his cousin must have learnt while on campaign.

"Don't worry Darcy. O'Connor is dealing with the horses. No point wasting time, she is not here. Come on."

Turning aside he told the maid, "Tell the sergeant we have gone west along the 'nade to the dooks." At that Richard, opened the front doors and gesturing for Darcy to proceed him, the two turned right and walked briskly towards the waterfront and the harbour.

It was only a matter of minutes before Darcy could see Georgiana walking alongside Wickham. Mrs Younge a good deal ahead of them, far enough away that only loudly spoken words would be heard.

Darcy saw red, stepped forward, but lurched to a stop as his cousin had a firm grip on his arm. Darcy glared at Richard. Richard hissed back, "Wait. Count to 10. Then we'll go down and confront him."

Realising that creating a scene would be counterproductive; Darcy took the pause to channel his anger into an emotionless rational fury. This was a skill that Darcy cultivated, having many uses, such as when debating, fencing, playing chess or conducting business. Then with an apparently calm exterior, Darcy walked casually down with his cousin to meet his sister and her companions.

"Fitzwilliam! Richard!" Georgiana exclaimed, running excitedly towards her brother and cousin, dragging a more reluctant George Wickham with her. Mrs Younge heard her charges excited squeal and turned around, but she did not walk back towards the others, appearing content to stay at a distance, just watching.

"This is wonderful, isn't it George?" Georgiana let go of Wickham's arm to give first Darcy and then Richard a hug.

"Darcy, Fitzwilliam." Wickham nodded his head the barest minimum acceptable.

"Wickham" they both replied.

"George? It is good, isn't it? We don't have to leave Ramsgate to wed. We can do it here! Fitzwilliam can give me away! … and … and Richard can be your best…" Georgiana's excited words, slowed and then dropped in both tone and volume as she noticed that everyone else looked like they were attending a funeral not a wedding.

"What is your game, Wickham?" Darcy said calmly. Richard took a few steps to the side. Having not having completely let Georgiana go, she was forced to go with him. Where upon he embraced her again, loosely but with tense enough that she knew that it was now between her brother and fiancé, she had been relegated to a spectator.

"No game, Darcy. As your sister said, we are preparing to wed. Your attendance, while desired by Georgiana, is not necessary."

"This wedding you aspire to will take place over my dead body."

"If that is necessary, possibly even desirable. Although I would much prefer you to be alive to receive Mr and Mrs Wickham at Pemberley."

"Georgiana is leaving Ramsgate today. What you do, I do not care."

"Thus I will get what I want without having to marry."

"How?"

"I have proposed and she has accepted. And in front of witnesses." Turning towards her he added, "Didn't I darling?"

"Oh, yes. It was so romantic, there was flowers, and full moon. Then he went down on…" Her explanation of the most romantic night of her young life was silenced with a look from her brother.

"So as you can see, Darcy, there is a definite, verifiable promise. So unless you are going to break a lifetime of honesty and buy off all the witnesses and force your sister to perjure herself…"

Darcy started to understand the direction that Wickham was taking. It was, as always, about money and Wickham's inflated sense of entitlement.

Wickham continued, "I managed to get far enough through law to understand the penalties for breach of promise." Wickham smirked. Darcy supposed Wickham hoped to provoke him. Causing a scene in such a public place could only help his cause. So he just stood there, hoping that Wickham's confidence in his own cleverness and his tendency to say too much, gave him time to think of a counter.

"Since you would not give me the living once it became vacant earlier this year, I was in desperate straights. I felt I had to do something to obtain, what I am sure your saintly father would have provided for me, had you not managed to somehow, prevent his wishes for me being voiced at the reading of the will."

Wickham's statement gave him no opening yet, but Darcy spotted at least one area that he could start removing the blinkers from his sister's eyes, allowing him to illustrate Wickham's true character, in front of Georgiana.

"You are being deliberately false, the living was no longer yours. I can quote you word for word. Did you not say that 'you had finally resolved against taking orders, but desired to study law'?" Pausing just long enough that did not allow Wickham to answer with a plausible excuse, so using his silence to confirm the statement veracity, Darcy continued. "You then stated the interest on the thousand pounds of your bequest was not enough for this purpose and requested that I give you a further three thousand pounds instead of the living so you could afford to study the law, to which you would then renounce all claim to it. To which I paid, did I not?"

Once again Darcy used a strategic pause to imply Wickham's concurrence with this statement as well, then giving him no time to actually answer, finished with "So where is this veritable fortune? You, said yourself, just a moment ago that you are now in desperate straights. Where did it go? Which gaming hell holds your many notes? Which back alley money leaders are you too far up river tick with?" Darcy said this calmly, but forcefully, in his best debating voice. When he was finished he nodded towards Georgiana. As Darcy had hoped, Wickham looked that way to see she was paying close attention to his statements, as intended. Wickham was going to have to come up with a pretty good counter.

Darcy had hoped that Wickham would try to convince her that he was lying, as she would never except that. And that should break his hold over her. But, if in the end he had to buy off Wickham again, even with considerably more than last time, to destroy the tendrils he had entwined around Georgiana's heart, would be worth twice the price. In the end it was only money, and Georgiana's wellbeing was more important. He would beggar himself if necessary, although he hoped THAT would not happen.

To Darcy's regret, Wickham did not take the obvious route. Instead Wickham looked sheepishly at Georgiana and said, "There are no notes outstanding, no moneylender debts, dear. I was only the victim of my over generous nature and poor investments. I helped friends that then repaid my generosity with scorn. But the majority of the money was invested in trade, and the depredations of French privateers has wiped it out."

He looked over at his sister again. Blast, thought Darcy, his tale of woe had provoked the sympathy he was certain was Wickham's aim.

Wickham then grinned broadly. "So you see my dear future brother-in-law, you do what your sister desires, and consent to our wedding, making her oh, so happy." This was said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Swapping to a smug tone, "Or you take her off to Pemberly, and I sue you for her dowry as a breach of promise. Don't think to try to beggar me with hundreds of pounds of legal fees, I know enough of the law to prosecute you myself. Actually I hope that you take the second option, there would be a certain enjoyment in watching you totally compromise your much vaunted honesty."

Richard, who had just held Georgiana, let her go and stepped towards Wickham. "Try to enjoy your triumph if you can. Best spend it fast, I doubt you will be alive long to enjoy it. Many servicemen and ex-soldiers owe me and would be willing to rid the world of a piece of trash like you"

"You intend to murder your cousin's husband? See Georgiana, they have always been jealous of me, and seek to prevent your happiness at the same time. Can you not see that they must prevent this marriage to ensure their plans for you to marry someone else to come to fruition."

"Say what you like, you snake. Georgiana will see the rightness of my actions soon enough. I would even settle for her hating me, if that was the cost of her being free of you."

"But would you settle for the end of your own life as well? I can assure you that I did not start on this road without friends that would avenge me, and thirty thousand pounds would buy a whole lot more. You say you know murderous assassins, but I am not without my own connections."

"But most would be cowards, skulking in the shadows. How many of them have looked their opponent in the eye as the person they just given a mortal blow dies in front of them. Those I know have. After what they have seen and done during this war, dealing with one soft boy would be like a holiday for them."

"It does not matter if you face you opponent or not, dead is still dead, even if it is a stiletto in the dark or a cudgel around the head, then a long swim in the Thames."

"Stop it, just stop it." Georgiana cried out. Darcy could see that Richard's threats were having the opposite effect that he had intended. He saw her tears well up as she moved away from Richard and towards Wickham. Thankfully Wickham's callous reply appeared to leave her in stuck a quandary, not willing to go all the way to Wickham, but nor would she seek comfort from her cousin who was showing a bloodthirsty nature he had not exposed to her before. So she just stood there, stranded halfway between the two.

Darcy was grateful of this side conversation. While Wickham and Richard had been baiting each other, he had found the fatal flaw in Wickham's logic. If it was only about the money, and he was certain it was, he could expose Wickham to Georgiana and end this. But, if Wickham did genuinely care for Georgiana, then he would have to live with the consequences of Wickham as a brother-in-law. But he knew Wickham, he knew his tastes, his proclivities, an innocent like Georgiana could never fulfil them.

So he gambled.

Time to gather Wickham's attention. "So Wickham, either way, you win."

Wickham turned and smiled. "So what will it be, Darcy? The money soon and a lovely wedding with her immediate family in attendance? I am sure Georgiana and I will be happy with a quiet wedding, won't we dear?"

"Yes." Her affirmation was not as confident or sounded as adoring as the previous time.

"Or, you could break your sister's heart, deny her greatest desire, and I see you in London while you twist and turn in your deceit, trying to escape your moral and legal obligations as her guardian."

"Or, you and I could go off to a local establishment, while Richard tries to apologise to my fiancé for his murderous intentions towards her intended, as we go off to discuss the… settlement." With this, Wickham's grin was wider than a cat that fell into a whole room full of cream urns.

Darcy smiled back, pausing long enough to allow Wickham to realise, if Darcy was still smiling, he must have overlooked something, something very important. Wickham's smile wavered. Darcy waited a little more time. Wickham's smile had just about disappeared and, Darcy was certain, his confidence also. Now was the moment. Counterattack.

"An excellent summation, Wickham. But you forgot a forth option, the only option I will allow."

"Which is?"

"I consent to you marrying Georgiana but, you must go and get a special licence, and the marriage must occur in a week's time, here in Ramsgate."

"Fine." Wickham's smile had returned.

"One final condition. You will not see or meet with Georgiana until the wedding."

"I agree, but I must have your promise to not to try to turn Georgiana against me, and Richard's promise also." Darcy noticed Richard looked shocked and was about to object. Darcy flicked up his hand to prevent this. Now he certain, Wickham's quip about 'going off to the nearest inn to discuss the settlement' clinched it. A payout was definitely the only thing Wickham cared about. And he was certain if he paid once, Wickham would use that to milk him ever time he thought he could.

"I can assure you I will not say anything against you, nor will Richard."

"You are a gentlemen and scholar, Oh, and Richard too" Wickham's voice was dripping with sarcasm again.

Darcy looked over at Georgiana. Wickham's sarcasm and contempt, along with his over avarice for her dowry, had done what Darcy had intended, she was unconsciously moving towards him, and away from both Wickham and Richard. Darcy had just about given Wickham enough rope. Just a little more…

"So we are agreed? On your word as a gentleman?"

"Of course Darcy. I best be off. Although I will need a letter from you to open the right doors to obtain the special licence."

"Before I do that Wickham, I best let you know, while I have consented, and both Richard and I will not try to turn Georgiana against you, I feel that it is important that you know that I will not attempt to convince Richard to consent to this wedding."

"It does not matter if Richard breaks his cousin's heart. It just shows the type of man he is."

"Oh, but Wickham, that is where you are wrong. In many ways it does not. It does not affct the ceremony, the legality of the marriage itself. But, materially? Yes, it does. Oh, and financially? Financially, it matters a great deal."

Darcy smiled reassuringly at Richard who had been looking at Darcy as if he had gone mad, suddenly realised what Darcy was up to. Smiling broadly, Richard then added, "Yes Wickham, unfortunately I will not ever be convinced to give my consent. It pains me to cause hardship to my cousin, but I am sure your love will overcome it."

By this stage Darcy noticed Wickham was not smiling, in fact a look of panic had started to appear. Darcy thought, now is time to pull the noose tight.

"You see Wickham, my father's will was very clear. You yourself were there at the reading. It is clear you remember that Georgiana's dowry was thirty thousand pounds. You even know from your study of the law that only one guardian's consent is needed for a wedding to be legal. But what you do not remember is that BOTH of Georgiana's guardians need to consent to it, otherwise she does not get her dowry until she turns thirty one. So I hope you have saved at least a little of the four thousand pounds you have already been gifted, you certainly will need it."

"What? ... No!"

"Yes, I am afraid it is so. Oh, yes, most of the jewellery, even many of the items she bought to Ramsgate are family pieces, and thus also part of her dowry. So after you are wed, I will be taking all but her personal pieces back to Pemberly. But Georgiana is beautiful enough on her own not to need the additional adornment."

Darcy paused for the full effect of this to sink in. "So I will allow the wedding, even giving my consent, no breach of promise, no possibility of a lawsuit, but also no dowry either."

"You would consign your own sister to poverty! We would be destitute!"

"Nothing of the sort, it is you that is choosing to do that. I am just trying to do the best for my sister. It is the law that ties my hands, and you, yourself admitted I am a very honest man." Turning to Georgiana, he asked her directly. "Are you certain you still wish to marry this man?"

"Oh, yes! See George, we don't have to elope, we can get married here in a week's time. Fitzwilliam has consented."

Wickham turned on her, "But can't you see, without Richard's consent there is no point."

"How can you say that, I love you, you love me. That is all we need."

"I love you too much to allow you to live like that."

"But I don't mind, truly I don't. If I am with you I don't care about being poor, we will be rich in what matters."

"But not actually RICH, and that DOES matter! I've been poor most of life, with you all lording it over me the entire time, and I ain't doing it again!"

"But, George, we can sell my jewellery."

"Fat lot of good that will do, it's not worth enough to even clear my debts."

"Debts? I don't understand."

"Of course you don't, you spoiled little girl. Your whole life, everything has been handed to you on a gilded plate. Everything is paid for. You want for… nothing!" Wickham's voice had increased in volume, and he nearly spat the last words back at her.

Wickham vehemence caused Georgiana to back toward Darcy. Darcy smiled. This was what he had hoped to happen. Georgiana then responded just as he hoped she would; "How can you say that! I never knew my mother. My... my father has been gone for nearly five years. Don't tell me I have had it easy."

"You. Poor. Little. Girl. My heart bleeds for your misfortunes. YOUR misfortunes have been great indeed!" Wickham sneered. "Are you that naïve that you believe I would trap myself in marriage with a girl that appears to be an heiress, but actually is penniless? You really don't know me, do you?"

"What do you mean? We talked about everything."

"You talked about everything. I just told you want you wanted to hear."

"But, but… I LOVE you." Georgiana's eyes were filling with tears. Darcy's heart was torn, he wanted to stop this, comfort her, but she had to see this to the end, otherwise Wickham would always have some hold over her. Richard looked like he wanted to comfort her also, but Darcy shook head.

"And I loved your money and was willing to put up with you as the penalty for getting it."

"Penalty?" Georgiana's tears had changed to anger.

"Yes, Penalty." Wickham sneered. "Do you think I would enjoy nights with a virgin who has no idea of how to please a man? Nor I imagine would you care to learn to do what I desire. It takes a special type of experience to please me. Would you like to know more? Let me tell you…" Darcy thought it best that Wickham stop, now, so glared at him in with such vehemence so Wickham knew, in no uncertain terms, that by continuing Darcy would cause him bodily harm, in public or not.

"I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" Georgiana tears were flowing freely now. Darcy stepped forward towards Georgiana and touched her on the shoulder. She shrank back against him at first, and then turned to cling to him. At that point her silent tears turned into sobs, deep anguished sobs.

"Right, Wickham, this is the end. Leave." Richard stepped up to just in front of the pair. His smile was mean, nasty, like a ferial beast. "Go Wickham, or I will have the greatest of pleasure ensuring you do."

"You think you are so clever, don't you. But I will get what is owed me, count on it." With that, Wickham turned to leave initially walking casually. But as he heard Richard stepping forward to follow his attempted dignified exit turned into a much more undignified rout. Darcy did not care. Wickham was gone. Georgiana was safe. And that was good enough for him.

Turning his attention to his sister he said "Georgiana, come. We should go… Georgiana, we need to go…." But Georgiana made no attempt to move, just clung tighter. Standing there, Darcy realised there was no dignified way to get her to move, so accepted that for the moment they were staying put. Paying attention to her, Darcy noticed she was saying something in between her sobs but could not quite make out what she wanted. "What is it Georgiana?"

"Yith…wwhhntt…. Yll… tthh…"

"I don't understand dear. What is it? Please?"

A few sharp deep breaths stopped the sobbing long enough for her to blurt, "'Lizbeth, want Elizabeth." Before the sobs returned in full force.

"Elizabeth? I can get you Elizabeth. But are you sure you want her? Would anyone else help?"

Richard looked at him with real puzzlement and asked Darcy. "Elizabeth? Why would she want Great Aunt Elizabeth? She's 90 if a day."

Darcy whispered back "Not Great Aunt. She wants Miss Elizabeth Smith."

"Who?" Richard spoke normally.

Darcy continued to whisper. "She wrote the express."

Richard finally got the idea, and now whispered also. "Oh. So where does she live. I'll go get her right now."

Darcy shook his head, and mouthed "No."

"No? Why ever not? Georgiana wants Miss Smith, so I'll just go get her."

"No. Just leave it at no. I will explain later."

"I don't agree, but she is your sister." Richard held up his hands in surrender. Georgiana had continued to sob through this entire conversation, although she repeated her request for Elizabeth each time her name was mentioned.

Trying to move from this awkward conversation, Darcy whispered to Richard, "Would you be agreeable if we leave here as soon as we can have Georgiana's essentials packed?"

"No problem for me or O'Connor. I can send him off to arrange a carriage. You can stay with Georgiana once we are back at the house. I'll arrange for just her necessities to be packed. The few maids will make short work it. As you say, the rest can be sent on later. We can leave O'Connor behind to do that, he's a past master at packing and moving."

"I am sure he is. Anyway the sooner we leave this place the happier I will feel. And if we do not return, it will be too soon."

Darcy looked down at his sister. Using his free hand to slowly raise her head to the point where she would look at him, he asked tenderly, "Shall we return to the house, dearest?" She nodded, but then asked, "Will Elizabeth be there?" Still not moving.

Darcy felt a great deal of discomfort about lying, but they had to go somewhere private as soon as possible. So he lied, "Yes, dear, she will be there."

At hearing this Georgiana disengaged from clinging to her brother and took just his arm instead. Sniffing back her tears she looked up at him and said, "Shall we go."

Darcy notice Richard had been looking around during this little byplay and then turned back towards the pair of them with an extremely puzzled look on his face; "Where is Mrs Younge?"

.

* * *

><p><strong>When I stopped writing this chapter it was quite different from how I had originally thought I'd resolve the situation. Afterwards my wife commented on how smug I looked. I supposed I feel very smug with how clever I have been. It was not how I got rid of Wickham in my original plot outline. That had what I think would be the more expected solution of having Darcy provoke Wickham with slurs of illegitimacy or the like and at the appropriate time threaten him with a duel "Pistols or Swords, sir?" and have Wickham bugger off as a coward – but I like this "solution" much, much better as it allows Darcy's intellect to allow him to get one over Wickham.<strong>


	18. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 7

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 7**

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Darcy recalled seeing Mrs Younge a good deal away at the start of the confrontation with Wickham. He had the impression that she came closer some point later. Certainly close enough to have heard all that was said, but he could not remember ever seeing her leave. So he asked Richard, "Think, any idea of the last time you remember seeing her?"

Richard replied, "Hmm... I don't know. I think she could still have been in the vicinity when Wickham got his comeuppance, but as for after that, I was too focussed on making sure he left as quickly as possible. So can't help there. But I have a bad feeling about this."

Turning to Georgiana, Richard asked, " Georgie, dear, was Mrs Younge friendly with George?"

Georgiana nodded.

"Did she encourage you to spend time with him, and allow you time with him alone?"

Georgiana nodded again.

"She was in on it, Darcy. I don't know for sure, but have a bad feeling about her... I'll go back to the house right now. You bring Georgie along in her own time." At that, Richard hurried off towards the house.

Darcy did not think that Mrs Younge could betray him this badly. As he walked slowly, at a pace to match Georgiana's, he thought about how Mrs Younge appeared at Pemberly just as he decided to start looking for a companion for his sister. Admittedly she had not appeared for that reason, but in hindsight, the timing of her arrival was too perfect. He knew that Wickham still maintained contacts in Lambton, even a few in Pemberly itself. So could well have heard of Darcy's search for a companion and arranged to send Mrs Younge, or whatever her real name was, north. Thinking about it, it was a no risk strategy for Wickham; if Darcy did hire her, he had an accomplice, but if she wasn't, Darcy was sure Wickham would have just tried again, possibly planting a maid or a footman instead.

Darcy could only suppose Wickham must had the idea soon after hearing of her dowry, but due to her age had to wait until she was old enough. If so, Darcy knew Wickham well enough to know that, although a coward, he was cunning and generally, at least in the past and now would be no different, had an alternative plan or two in case his main plan failed. Take this situation, Wickham obviously hoped to elope, presenting the marriage as a fait accompli but had obviously been prepared for the possibility of Darcy appearing, given the amount of letters between the two siblings.

But if Mrs Younge was Wickham's accomplice, was there anyone else? Darcy considered who else had started in the last year, and then realised he'd have to go back further than that, maybe as far back as soon after his father passed away. Thinking about Darcy House in London as the most likely location for Wickham's assistants, there was Gratham, the new footman who had only been with them for six months. Could he have a gambling habit that Wickham was using to blackmail him with? Alice, the newest chambermaid, had only been there about a year, and she was the kind of flighty girl Wickham could seduce without having to exert himself.

Thankfully the other new maid, Hannah, who was serving in the kitchens, was another of Sumerville's cast off's, so would be immune to Wickham as he would have been known to her as one of Sumerville's companions. But then again Sumerville had seduced her, and it was only when she came with child that he let her go. That reminded him, her daughter would be turning one in a few weeks time. He'd have to arrange for someone to buy a present for her, maybe Mrs Taylor, the housekeeper, would be best.

Back to the new servants. Then there was Fred in the gardens, and wasn't there another groom, Lord, he was so new Darcy could not remember his name, having only met him the once when the head groom, Honesty Falworth (he must have had a hard time growing up, was Darcy's irreverent thought), introduced him early last week. The list kept growing as they walked along the promenade. Whatever the number, it had to be done, so might as well start as soon as he was back.

Actually, Darcy decided, he'd ask Charles if Adams, his Man of Business, could help. He was probably the best man for the job as, from what Bingley had told him, Adams had come up from the streets, having grown up in the seedy world of London slums, with its criminal gangs, its beggars, thugs and confidence tricksters, the gin dens, gaming hells and abbeys [the regency term for brothels]. His background would give him the best chance of finding any other of Wickham's confederates in London.

Oh, then there was Pemberly. Mrs Younge turned up there, not London. Heavens, think of the number of new staff in the last two years or so... no it could be a lot worse, Wickham could have charmed or have blackmail information on anyone there, going back a decade or more. Oh my, this on top of everything else. Darcy could see many days and nights of work ahead.

As they turned off the promenade, Darcy's thoughts were interrupted by a few involuntary sobs from Georgiana. Darcy suddenly realised, in many ways, how trivial his problems were compared to his dearest sister. Stopping them both, he asked her tenderly, "Dearest, are you all right to continue?"

Georgiana looked up at him, with red eyes and a tear streaked face, and nodded. She exuded despondency and dejection with her look, and the slumping of her whole body. Oh Lord, that truly broke his heart. With a very concerned voice Darcy said "Don't worry dearest, we'll be back in London soon, or Pemberly if you prefer. Is there is anything you want?"

In a quiet voice, so quiet he nearly missed it, she asked, "Will Elizabeth be there?"

What was it about Elizabeth? Darcy had a flash of annoyance, why would Georgiana want a fallen woman, at this time? Who would be a salient reminder of what she had come very close to herself. In some ways Darcy realised he had to be a little grateful that Wickham was so focused on the money, otherwise he could have already ruined Georgiana. She was obviously willing enough to elope with him, it would only have taken a little push from him to convince her to anticipate their vows. He'd seen Wickham do it before, and cleaned up the pieces more than once, starting with that shopkeeper's daughter only a term into their first year at university.

"Err... She's not there just now, but it can be arranged. Do not worry; I will take care of it."

Georgiana gave a shaky smile, then started back to the house at a much faster pace than before, so much so that Darcy had to walk at his usual pace rather than half his steps as he had been doing.

* * *

><p>Darcy escorted Georgiana into the parlour, where a hot pot of tea was waiting for her. Ah, thought Darcy, the housekeeper knows her business.<p>

"Dear, drink your tea, I'll just go and see where Richard is." At that, Darcy left and walked towards the kitchen, guessing that Richard would more likely be there than anywhere else. Darcy smiled to himself, as predicted, Richard was leaning against the main workbench eating a sandwich. There was the remains of a more substantial meal, left partly eaten on the kitchen table. Gesturing for the scullery maid to leave, Darcy waited until she did so, before asking, "Well Richard, did you find Mrs Younge?"

Richard put down his sandwich with a look of regret. "No, she had been and gone before I arrived. O'Connor was having something to eat. He heard her go upstairs. He came out to see her walk out through the front hall carrying something. I asked, but he couldn't see what it was from the stairs from where he was. He was not to know it was important so he returned to his dinner. Oh, he did hear her say to the maid that she had returned to get something Georgiana wanted, and they'd all be back soon. I discovered she had spoken to Helen, who was in the front hall as she left. Helen did say it was a carpetbag, which she thought was a bit strange, but had no reason to question her betters. "

"Pity they didn't learn any more, but they were not to know. Anyway, when was this?"

"Maybe five minutes ago, I would have missed her by just a minute or so. I mentioned, in the most general terms, what had happened to O'Connor. He said she must have known the game was up and came back to pack a few items to make up for the loss of any further wages. We've had a look in the public rooms, and can't see anything missing. But then again, we know nothing about what should here."

"I can't help much there either. Hold on." Darcy turned and yelled up the stairs, "Mrs Pennywise!" Then he followed up the stairs. Richard took another despairing look at his sandwich before realising he had eaten all that he was going to be able to for a while, then followed Darcy.

Darcy spoke over his shoulder. "Right, we'll get her and the other servants to check the owner's possessions. Let's go get Georgiana, hopefully she will be calm enough to let us know if anything is missing from her and Mrs Younge's rooms." As they got to the top of the stairs, Darcy added. "By the way, where is your Sergeant?"

"Thought it best to send him off to get the Militia, given Mrs Younge very likely would have taken something. No, actually O'Connor suggested it, I just made it official by giving the order."

"Sir." Said Mrs Pennywise, arriving slightly out of breath and curtseying.

"Mrs Pennywise. Mrs Younge left before she could be turn off immediately without reference, due to her recent actions."

Mrs Pennywise blanched. Before Darcy could continue she interjected, "Wer'n't nuffin to do with us. We's all see'd 'ow the young gen'lman talkin' up to 'ta young miss. It wer'n't right, it wasn't. But that woman says we'd be turned off if we'd said." She was looking very worried. Along with the use of the house, Darcy had the right to dismiss the servants and get his own, if he so wished.

"Do not trouble yourself. I hold you and the other servants blameless. Just check all the high value items in the public rooms. You may need to get the household inventory as she is likely to have taken something that would be easily overlooked, anything small that would not be noticed for a while."

"Right away, sir. Girls! Girls!"

Darcy walked towards the parlour, expecting, once again, that Richard would just follow him.

Following as expected, Richard queried his last command, "You really think she had valuable items secreted away, in advance?"

"Yes. If, as you surmise, Mrs Younge was in on it, she'd have her own backup plan, just in case Wickham double crossed her and left her stranded here, or somewhere else, like on the road to Scotland."

"The way you've got this all worked out, you've not planned this yourself? Go on, you can tell me."

"Richard!" Darcy couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Richard held up his hands in surrender, "Sorry, a poor jest, at the wrong moment. Sorry. Here, let's get Georgiana."

Darcy found his sister, curled dejectedly on the love seat that looked out over the harbour, an empty teacup beside her. Walking over to her, he tenderly rested his hand on her shoulder, just waiting. It wasn't long before she turned and looked back up at her brother. Having given her time, there was a distasteful task to be done, and no way of making it easier. It would be hard for her to realise that they had been harbouring a criminal all this time.

Darcy leant down spoke to her in a soft voice. "Dearest, Mrs Younge came back while we were still at the harbour. She stayed for only a short space of time before leaving, taking a bag with her."

Leaving Georgiana time to register what he said, he paused a short while until he saw that Georgiana realised the implications of what he just said and she stood up. He felt a jolt of pride with how quickly she understood, that's the Darcy sense showing through!

"Yes, dear. We need you to come with us to check if there is anything of yours missing. Come." Darcy held out his arm to escort her upstairs.

The trio had to walk past Mrs Younge's room. Darcy glanced in. It looked a mess, there were clothes hanging over the dressing screen, on the bedside chair, on the wardrobe door, even silk intimate apparel draped over the end the dresser mirror. Mrs Younge's travelling chest was sitting open, obviously dragged out from under the bed. The dresser was clear of all the usual bushes and toiletries and there was a hatbox left open on the bed. All signs of someone who lived in a shambles. (Why hadn't I noticed that before? Yet another thing about the servants that should be checked, Darcy thought). But also of having to leave in a hurry as well.

Entering Georgiana's room with her, Darcy noticed that Richard hung back. Darcy gestured for him to follow them into the room but he just shook his head.

Darcy noticed that Georgiana looked hesitant as she surveyed her room as he did the same. Darcy observed as she just walked slowly around the room, stopping at random; to pick up a doily on her dresser, pick up and put down a pillow on her bed, touching the cheek of her old doll - almost as if it was a young baby. None of these things made sense. How was she supposed to determine if anything was missing with such uncoordinated actions? Well, he'll give her a moment more. Darcy looked over to her travelling jewellery case. He could see that it was closed up and locked, as he had instructed. That was good. It was deliberately far bigger and more solid than it needed to be, in part to make it stronger, so it was difficult to break into, and also both heavier and bulkier so it would be hard to carry away without help. It also was of a clever design that made it complicated to open or close, so a thief would more likely leave it open, indicating something was missing immediately.

Having examined the case, and assured that it was unlikely that Mrs Younge had time to open it, or even close it, had it been left open, Darcy looked around for his sister. She was staring out the window holding onto a cheap pottery souvenir. Well, it was time to get her focussed on the job in hand.

"Georgie."

She appeared not to have noticed, so Darcy called out again, this time louder. "Georgie."

Georgiana started, then turned to look at him, face blank and expressionless.

"Dear, is anything missing?"

"I don't know."

"Please look for me."

"Yes, sorry, yes... Umm…" Georgiana started around the room, this time moving in a vaguely systematic way under her brother's direction.

When he directed her to the dresser and asked, "Did you bring the brush set I got you for your birthday? As it's not here." Darcy remembered how excited she was to get the proper, adult-sized silver backed brush, comb and mirror set, engraved with GD and the Darcy crest.

"Yes, I think so."

"That appears to have gone. What about your jewellery?"

Georgiana put down the cheap souvenir, and picked up an empty crystal dish, "My amber necklace is gone!" Georgiana wailed. She pulled open drawers on her dresser, scrambling through the clothing. In time finished with a look of great concern. "She has the mirror from my drawers as well. I don't care about the brush or mirror but the necklace was mother's!" Georgiana burst into tears.

"There, there, dear, we'll get it back." Darcy came over and gave her a hug to reassure her. He was now very concerned. Mrs Younge had come in here and taken some valuable items. But when she had rifled the drawers, what else could she have found? Had Georgiana written or kept incriminating letters? What about a diary?

Not realising he was starting to mutter Darcy's thoughts continued, "If she's taken her diary, Georgie could still be ruined if she wrote something silly in it… Oh, she's is bound to have… A naïve girl her age… Probably didn't think at all… Doesn't matter I suppose, it will just come down to money to get them back… I wonder how much her folly will cost me? Well, best find out." Darcy then spoke at a normal voice, "Do you still keep a diary? Where it is?"

Georgiana pointed to the dresser.

"So, was it there when you looked for the brush set?"

Darcy did not expect Georgiana to suddenly burst into deep heartrending sobs, but she did. He suddenly staggered as she collapsed against him. He fully carried her over to the seat by the window. Crouching down alongside her, he allowed her to cry on his shoulder. Looking back to Richard, who was still standing in the doorway, Darcy gestured for him to come and do his share, but he waved it off.

After a few minutes, Darcy tried to reassure her, "It will be alright dearest, no one takes any notice of what a young girl writes in her diary." Far from reassuring his sister, it just provoked another round of deep sobbing. Feeling helpless, Darcy did not know what to do. He looked over at Richard for inspiration, but he just shrugged his shoulders with a puzzled look on his face. Growing more and more concerned as her distress did not seem to be calming down, he asked quietly, "Can I get you something?"

Georgiana pointed at the dresser, "Lizzie's cat." Came out from amongst the sobbing.

The only cat on the dresser was the cheap souvenir he saw her with earlier, so he supposed that must be it. He gestured for Richard to get it, having to correct him so he got the right object, and then bring it over. Richard passed over the crude pottery object, glazed in multiple colours, it was really a dreadful item, but it did the trick. Georgiana clasped it to her as her crying calmed then ceased.

"Thank you." Georgiana said in a weak voice.

She looked up at Darcy and her cousin. "When will Lizzie be here?"

Darcy could not understand what the attraction was. "You have us, dearest."

"I want Lizzie."

"Now Georgie, she isn't the sort of person that should visit you now."

This statement seemed to charge Georgiana. "You promised." The tears had stopped completely. "You said you'd get her later." Georgiana had stood up and was glaring at him. Darcy took a step back in surprise, what had gotten into his mild sister?

"It will be alright, Georgie, we don't need her to know."

"It won't be alright! It will NEVER be alright!." She was screaming at him now. "I WANT LIZZIE!"

Darcy kept stepping back, trying to soothe his sister, but she kept shrugging his hands off. He noticed that Richard had already made a strategic retreat, the coward. "Don't worry dear, I'll give you a chance to say goodbye later, we'll stop by once we're on the way home."

"No, I want Lizzie and you won't get her. You hate her! My only friend and you hate her! Get out." Georgie pushed him towards the door. She pushed him! She was surprisingly strong in her anger, and Darcy found himself most of the way to the door already. He had to keep deflecting her fists with his hands as his sister flailed at him.

"I don't hate her, dear. I just don't think she is suitable companion for you, particularly under the circumstances." Almost as soon as he said it, Darcy realised he had made a huge mistake. "Georgie, I'm sorry, dear…" but Georgiana didn't let him continue.

"I'm ruined just like her, aren't I. Aren't I! You think I'm a fallen woman too. I suppose I am unsuitable to be anyone's friend, just like her. Well, we will just have to be unsuitable together."

"No that is not what I meant at all. Listen Georgie, I only mean what is best…"

"I not listening to you, ever. Get OUT!" With that, Darcy, who had been backing up, found himself on the other side of a slamming door. What really hurt was the sound of the key turning in the lock and the resumption of crying from inside the room.

Darcy leant against the door, feeling drained and wearier than he had at the end of yesterday's long ride. "Dear, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Truly I didn't. Just let me in and we'll talk."

"No. I'll only talk to Lizzie. Go away."

Darcy suddenly realised that Richard had been standing there with a look of shock on his face. It looked like Darcy wasn't the only one that could not believe what just happened. Darcy stood there trying to work out what to say when he registered that Richard had asked him something.

"Sorry Richard, what did you say?"

"I just asked why you won't go and get Lizzie? I would go myself but I don't know who she is."

"No. I won't be going."

"No? Why ever not?"

"I don't want her to come."

"Why ever not? Georgie obviously wants her. Who is she?"

"Miss Elizabeth Smith."

"The letter writer?"

"The same."

At this point Richard looked at him like he was mad. "So you won't go get the lady that warned us, at great expense to herself, or so you stated, so we could avert this disaster, and who Georgiana has especially asked for?"

"I have my reasons. She is not suitable."

"You are being ridiculous. I cannot imagine any reason for not getting her."

"She is immoral. In vulgar terms, a hussy. She is has a young daughter and introduces herself as Miss not Missus. She's proud of her own immorality."

"Or she could just have an excessive level of honesty. A bit like someone else I know. Look, what harm can it do, Darcy? Hear Georgiana. Do it for her sake alone." Georgiana's muffled sobs could still be heard through the door.

"Should we bring someone that, by their very nature would remind Georgiana of a similar fate to the one that she so narrowly avoided?"

"Yes we should, Georgie wants her, that's good enough for me. Good lord, Darcy, listen to yourself. You are sounding like a pompous arse."

"I am not. I am just concerned for my sister and her reputation."

"Hah. If you really care for your sister, you would be on your way to get this Lizzie already, not arguing morality with your cousin in a hallway while your sister sobs her heart out in the room next door, because her overly righteous brother won't lower himself to go visit the house of a fallen woman."

"No it's just…"

"Just what."

"I think I insulted her the only time we met. I don't think she'll come if I ask."

"Typical of you Darcy. You really have a way with those you consider beneath you."

Darcy stared at his cousin. What on earth did that mean? He was always scrupulously polite with the lower classes, and never condescending, well, almost never.

Richard continued, "Either you tell me where she lives, or better yet, pretend to be a sociable person and go and ask her to come yourself. Actually it would be good for you to go. Consider it an opportunity for having to be charming to someone that might not be that impressed with the august presence that is Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Darcy could not understand why Richard could not see his point of view, followed by that pointed, sarcastic comment. What on earth had happened just now?

"Look Darcy, I very rarely ask you to do anything or stand on my position as co-guardian, but I have to insist. Please Darcy, for the love of all that is good and holy, go get her."

"Alright, alright, I'll go." Darcy could not understand how this recent acquaintance of Georgiana's had supplanted him from the centre of her world. She used to talk to him about everything. He had to admit the fact that he wasn't needed, when something truly shattering had happened to his sister, really hurt. As he left he tried to consider why he felt so confused.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was sitting on the floor with Amy-Jane, in the middle of teaching her daughter her letters when there was a knock at the door. Hoping that Mrs Carter would get that, Elizabeth stayed where she was. She was relieved to hear Mrs Carter walk past, on her way from the kitchen to the front door. Leaning down she carried on, "Now draw a line across. Yes that's it. Good girl."<p>

"It's a 'J' mummy. I done a 'J' for Aunt Jane."

"Did - I did a 'J'. You have a 'J' in your name also. Now we can do another 'A'. Here I'll show you again."

While this was going on, Elizabeth heard the sound of muffled speech from the hall. Taking up the chalk and chalkboard, Elizabeth, started, "See, you first draw a line down. Then you…"

At this point Mrs Carter opened the door to the parlour. "Elizabeth, you have a visitor." There was an imposing, but well dressed gentleman lurking behind her. Mrs Carter ushered Mr Darcy (Mr Darcy!) into the parlour. It was only a small room, and his entrance made it appear even smaller.

"Good morning, Miss Smith. Oh, and hello miss… Amy-Jane." He greeted them both in that deep toned voice of his.

"Mummy, it's that tall man again."

"Yes, dear. Good afternoon Mr Darcy. Say hello to Mr Darcy, Amy-Jane."

"Hello Mr Darcy."

The greetings over, Elizabeth suddenly realised she was sitting on the floor. Blushing slightly, she tried to get up demurely, but there was no real polite way for levering herself up. It didn't help that one of her legs had partly gone to sleep and was mostly useless. More embarrassing, it appeared he had noticed.

"Let me help." He said, holding out a hand.

As she gripped his hand hard she realised neither of them were wearing gloves. Suddenly she was blushing furiously and got stuck halfway up, vacillating between letting go and falling down in an undignified heap, or continuing to hold on, bare skin to bare skin and allow him to assist her.

Thankfully the decision was taken out her hands as, with little apparent effort, Mr Darcy pulled her up to her feet, and not letting go, assisted her to the sofa. "There you are." He said, his cheeks also showed some colour, but he seemed far quicker to get his reaction under regulation.

Mrs Carter was hovering in the doorway, also appearing uncertain whether to come in and sit or leave them alone. Mr Darcy solved that problem too. "Mrs Carter, I need to speak with Miss Smith, could you please look after her daughter for a minute?"

The cheek of the man! He had only just arrived, and here he was ordering everyone around like he was in his own house. Elizabeth started to object, but by the time she went to start to say something, Mrs Carter had already bundled Amy-Jane out of the room, with promises of sugar biscuits and cups of warm milk. But this typical arrogance could only be expected from gentlemen like him. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, she almost glared at him. Already seated as well. He might as well order the tea while he is at it!

"Um… Miss Smith…" Mr Darcy looked around, as if making sure she hadn't got a lover hidden in the room somewhere. "…Miss Smith…" Elizabeth though, well get on with it.

"Um… It's Georgiana, Miss Smith. She's… um… She's, you know, you warned us she could, you know…"

"She's gone already? But, but he had the coach arranged for tomorrow!"

"Oh, no she's still here. It's just… umm…"

"Just what?"

"Wickham's gone, I got him to leave. No money you see. Only after the money, so when he found out the was none, he called it all off. Georgiana hates him now."

"That can only be a good thing. How is she?"

"She's very upset. She says that she needs you, but I think she will be alright in time. So… there it is."

"Sorry Mr Darcy, you make no sense. What do you want?"

Elizabeth saw Mr Darcy take several deep breaths, as if he was struggling with himself. He stood up. Looked down at her, then realised he was looming, sat back down again. Elizabeth sat watching this performance with some concern herself. She desperately wanted to go to comfort Georgiana, but was aware of his view of her, and by going, making matters worse for her friend.

Whatever he was struggling with, one side won. "Miss Smith. If it is no trouble, could you please come with me. My sister is of need of your companionship."

Elizabeth replied as quickly as what was asked registered. "Of course, Mr Darcy. Can you wait one moment? I'll be right back." Elizabeth hurried out of the room, noticing that Mr Darcy had followed her into the hall way. As she walked into the kitchen, she took off her apron she had been wearing to protect her dress from the chalk and hung it beside the oven.

"Mrs Carter, I need to go to visit with Georgiana, for a short while. Will you be able to look after Amy-Jane for the rest of the afternoon? I might want to bring her back here, will that be agreeable?"

"Of course dear, this is your house as well. You should treat it as such. Off you go."

Elizabeth bent down to kiss her daughter. "Amy-Jane, I will be gone for a bit, be good for Mrs Carter."

"Yes, mummy."

She grabbed her cape. "'Bye darling."

"Bye-bye."

Elizabeth exited the kitchenin to the hall where Mr Darcy was waiting by the front door, standing still and somewhat aloof, looking at the blank wall, obviously deep in thought.

"Well Mr Darcy, I'm ready, let's go. You will need to tell me more as we walk, if I am to help. So what happened..."

* * *

><p>Darcy escorted Elizabeth upstairs to Georgiana's door. A little hesitantly, he knocked, feeling unsure of his welcome, as he could hear her still sobbing quietly through the door.<p>

"Who is it?" Georgiana asked jerkily.

"I've bought Miss Smith, Georgie."

"What?"

"Elizabeth Smith is here."

Darcy was not prepared, once again, for her reaction. The lock was opened and the door thrown open with the same force that slammed it only a short while ago. There was a brief pause before a fifteen year old missile hurtled herself out of the room at the newcomer with the loudest cry of, "LIZZIE! Oh, Lizzie! Lizzie, you've come." And then his sister and her visitor embraced. Georgiana's hug was so fierce that Darcy worried she might hurt Elizabeth but she didn't seem to mind at all.

Darcy watched as the pair walked back into his sister's room, Georgiana talking so quickly, so randomly that he could not understand her narrative, and he was there. He could only be grateful that Miss Elizabeth's arrival had stopped Georgiana's tears.

Standing leaning against the door, he watched as the two ladies conversed in low tones, only the occasional excited outburst from Georgiana audible. Whatever Elizabeth said worked, as Georgiana's dejected expression slowly disappeared. Darcy was amazed how little he understood his sister now. What else had happened over her stay in Ramsgate, she definitely changed, and it could not just have been what happened in today, or could it? Whatever it was, he suddenly realised what a few of his older friends had been saying about the point a father realises his daughter is growing up. The age gap and his parent's early deaths meant Georgiana was far more a daughter than a sister. If this is the sort of pain fathers go through for each daughter, he hoped that he had only sons.

He had filled Elizabeth in on most of what had happened as requested, although he felt a bit guilty that he had glossed over the bits just prior to getting her. This did mean she was able to calm Georgie fairly quickly, certainly calm enough to find out what she had written in the missing diary.

Interrupting their conversation he asked Georgiana. "Dear, maybe you can tell us what was written in your diary. While I hope to prevent it, how bad would it be if the contents were made public?"

Obviously the content was fairly indiscrete given that Georgiana burst into tears again. But it was a perfectly reasonable question, what was the glare from Elizabeth for? Darcy had no intentions of leaving without the answer, no matter what dismissal gestures Elizabeth was making. This was his house, she was a guest! Bracing himself with a stubborn raise of his chin for a battle royal, the wind was taken out of his sails by someone pulling him backwards. Darcy turned, annoyed, ready to yell at the oaf that yanked him to see it was Richard. And his Sergeant, and two other soldiers.

Richard kept tugging insistently. Darcy stepped not quite far enough not to be able to hear if Georgiana said anything to her companion. In an annoyed voice he said, "What is it Richard? And who are they?"

"Darcy, this is Lieutenant Bedford and Corporal Walters from the Ramsgate Militia. I have explained there appears to be jewellery and some expensive toiletries missing. Lieutenant Bedford has bought a few men to assist in their recovery and the arrest of the culprits."

"Good afternoon, sir. I would say it was good day to meet you, but circumstances make that a lie. Do not worry sir, we will apprehend this Mrs Younge and her likely accomplice, Mr Wickham."

Richard leaned close, "I've had to invent a bit of a story about them working together to rob us. They only know of the missing items, not the diary. We'll retrieve that ourselves."

Darcy whispered back. "From Georgie's reaction, that is the most important thing. I don't care if she, or he for that matter, get away if you retrieve the diary."

In a normal voice, Darcy said. "Thank you Lieutenant, we believe Mr Wickham should still be packing, so if you are fast you may just catch him with Mrs Younge at his lodgings, where ever that is. Ask the servants, they should know."

Sergeant O'Connor added "The servants say he is staying at the White Swan on the promenade."

They all turned as Elizabeth said loudly. "Black Bear Inn. He's at the Black Bear Inn. He just wanted people to think he could afford the White Swan."

Given her information was spot on so far, Darcy was prepared to trust her this time as well. "You heard Miss Smith, take the Colonel there. Good bye Richard."

"But Darcy, you are coming too. Aren't you?"

"No. Someone has to stay with Georgiana."

"She has Lizzie."

"I can't leave her alone with a..."

"No, don't say it. You can and you will."

"But Richard, she's..."

"She, as you so eloquently put it, got involved even after being insulted. Warned you at great expense to herself. Is able to comfort Georgie, where I can't, and I doubt you can either. And she probably just saved us a wild-goose chase, as well. You need to see past your blind spot, where she is concerned."

"But Richard..."

"No. She stays, you are coming. Anyway, ladies need to be able to talk without men around, especially overbearing older brothers. Come." With that Richard pretty much pulled Darcy out of the room. "Come on Darcy, the chase is on!" Richard bounded down the stairs.

Taking one last look back at his sister, Darcy saw she was almost looking cheerful. Well, he thought, now I know when I am not needed. Catching Elizabeth's gaze for a moment he was surprised to see her look of hurt followed by anger directed at him. As he turned again and walked more reluctantly after his eager Cousin, Darcy was puzzled as to what he could have done to cause that?


	19. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 8

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 8**

.

Wickham stood in his room on the top floor of the Black Bear Inn looking at the pile of dirty laundry piled on the chair and the floor alongside it.

"Bloody smug bastard."

Wickham picked through the clothing, deciding if any of it was worth packing. He considered that he'd be travelling light for a bit. A chest full of clothing would just slow him down because a quick escape would be necessary if his creditor's ever found him. Which they were bound to do eventually.

In a sarcastic tone he continued, "I will consent but, my nearly as big an arse of a cousin will bugger everything up by refusing."

He looked at the stained shirt in his hands, wrinkled his mouth in disgust and threw it back on the pile.

"I want to punch his smug smile down his bloody neck."

He picked up his travel bag and emptied it onto his bed.

"Well, mister smarty-pants, you won this time, but don't count me out. I'll get what's owing me."

About half of the things went back into the travel bag, followed by the best of the clothes. Wickham pulled out his travelling chest. Rummaging through it, he pulled a few other clothes out and they also went into the bag. He lifted out his pistol and went to put it into his bag but stopped. If it were him, the easy way to et rid of the 'Wickham problem" would be an ambush on the way out of town. A drawn blade, a quick thrust, a body in a pool of blood, chalked up to a highway robbery gone wrong, and Darcy would keep what was rightfully mine.

Well that's what he'd do. But would Darcy? No, no he wouldn't do it. Actually, Darcy wouldn't even think of it. Mister upright, honesty himself. He could give a poker a lesson in stiffness. Feeling a great deal of relief with this realisation, Wickham went to put the pistol away, then realised. Oh god, Darcy wouldn't, but remembering how Richard looked at him, Wickham was certain that it was only because they had been in public prevented Richard drawing his sword and run him through. Richard would consider it, and have the skills and the gumption to carry it out.

Now quite worried, Wickham loaded and primed the pistol, carefully lowered the hammer, then placed it in the inside pocket of his coat. Feeling like he had something that would be more than equal to the Colonel's sword skill, he strutted around the room, feeling quite cocky. Wickham even pulled out his pistol once and then, realising what he was doing, self-consciously, and gingerly, put his pistol back in his coat, and resumed packing.

Wickham became increasingly frustrated as the amount he wanted to take grew, and regardless how he repacked his bag it was never going to be big enough. Scratching his head while thinking, Wickham looked at his travelling chest. There was no way he was going to carry it on horseback, and he couldn't easily travel by stage, as he had every intention of avoiding London completely. Too many people knew him, and wanted their pound of flesh, to risk it. The entire south of England was out, the middle contained too many people that called Darcy friend. So it was the north, maybe Newcastle could be good this time of year. Even Ireland for that matter, if he could survive the sea voyage across the Irish Sea. He felt nauseous just thinking about it so, Ireland was probably out, but anywhere north would be good.

Wickham sat on the bed. He had a thought; the rest of his clothes would fit easily into another canvas bag, which he could get anywhere. Given that it looked like it would be a clear night, he could wait until evening to slip away. He could take the travel bag down before dinner. Leave it hidden in the stables. Then after dinner take the other bag down, asking about where to take his laundry, saddle up and be off. The Innkeeper would not expect that. With a sly smile, Wickham realised the innkeeper wouldn't be collecting the payment owning after all. Anyway it's better off in my pocket than his.

Wickham was feeling fairly plump in pocket having not spent the entirety of what Mrs Younge gave to him from Georgiana's allowance each time he asked for more. Combine that with what he wasn't going to pay the innkeeper, and he wouldn't have to sleep rough on his trip north, although it may pay to for the first few nights. That would make it almost impossible to determine where he went after leaving Ramsgate. Having Darcy not knowing where he was could only be to his advantage.

Best get that other bag, Wickham thought as he went down stairs. On his way back to his room, new bag in hand, Wickham passed through the common room. Just as he was about to go up, he realised he had time to kill, so he paused for a cool pint.

* * *

><p>A while later, feeling quite refreshed, he walked up the stairs and opened the door to his room.<p>

"What are you doing here?" Wickham was surprised to see Mrs Younge, pacing around, obviously waiting for him to arrive.

"I wasn't followed."

"That's not the point. Shouldn't you be with Georgie? Comforting her."

"As if Mr Darcy would have let that happen."

"What do you mean? I made a point not to mention you."

"Yeah, but he ain't stupid. How long did you think it would have taken for 'im to realise I must've turned a blind eye, even if I wasn't 'elping you?"

"You could have denied it."

"And given him the satisfaction of turning me off without a reference? Nah. Cut and run, just like you is doin'. So much for your foolproof plan."

"How was I to know about that ridiculous extra in old Mr Darcy's will. Bet he added it when he rewrote it to cut me out."

"Still harping on about that? The old man did leave you something, ya liar. You said he left ya nothing!"

"Compared to what he was worth! It were nothing, less than a drop in a bucket to them! Anyway it had all gone before I even met you."

"So what 'appened to the three thousand pounds?"

"I had a few creditors, to placate. You know you and me were both in a bit of trouble then, and I made it go away. Where did you think the money came from? I told you I had a way of getting it, and I did. Anyway, it wasn't like he said, it was a gift, I never gave away the living, he just changed his mind."

"I know who'd I believe. You might be a charming bit of arse, but I know you too well. Doesn't matter. I've just come from the house and I got me something that will get you more than what you got before."

"What? Show me."

"No! Only after you swear you'll marry me once we're rich! Swear on your mother's grave."

"Of course I will, dear."

Wickham thought, like bloody likely, only if the only alternative is worse, but smiled sweetly, "Dear. It has always been you, you know I never wanted to marry Georgie, she like a sister to me. I just hoped that Darcy would pay out to make the problem go away. If it weren't for that extra condition, we would have been sitting pretty. He'd have settled for at least four or five, maybe as much as six thousand pounds."

"And I'd get half?" Mrs Younge avarice was clear on her face. Meanwhile Wickham thought, if I couldn't get half my name ain't George. Hell, I'm pretty sure Darcy would have paid damn near the full amount to protect his precious little angel. Thankfully she was too busy thinking of such limited riches to notice he was also deep in thought. Best distract her, so out loud Wickham said, "And Mr, high and mighty, Darcy and his cousin would've had to stand there and smile through gritted teeth. How satisfying that would've been. If it weren't for that bloody clause."

"I know dear. Never mind, you weren't to know. Georgiana certainly never, otherwise I'd a warned you."

"I would have got the money." Wickham said dejectedly, what she'd bought temporarily forgotten.

"I know dear, you've always been able to charm the petals off a rose. 'Though if I catch you trying it when I'm around you'll be sorry."

Wickham turned his most charming smile on the lady opposite, "You know I only do it to stay in practice, I don't mean it. Can't turn 'em down later, what about my reputation?"

"Doesn't matter as long as you don't do it around me. Come here."

At this she stepped forward and embraced him. Wickham returned the embrace, enjoying the rounded womanly shape under his hands. As the kisses grew stronger, Wickham remembered she bought something with her. He stopped their amorous activity abruptly and stepped out of their embrace, leaving his partner looking petulant.

"What did you bring?"

"See how distracting you are, I clean forgot. I'll just get it." Mrs Younge went over to her bag sitting beside the chair. She bent over (she always had a nice arse) and pulled something out. She turned and held out a book, covered in pale fawn leather. "It's her diary." Mrs Younge exclaimed.

"Yeah, and? It's not like we need evidence to sue for breech of promise."

"No, but I got her to write not just what happened but what she wanted to have happen."

"And…"

"If she wrote half of wot I told her to write, this would be worth at least as much to him for it not to be published in a scandal rag to all of London.

"Let me see." Wickham held out his hand for it.

Mrs Younge wasn't as dumb as he thought, as she kept hold of it. "Remember you promised."

"So I did."

"But you didn't say it."

"So I didn't, sorry. Here…' Wickham placed his hand on his heart, "I swear on my mother's grave." (That I'll keep as much as possible) he thought silently. He opened his arms in invitation. "See, there you go. Come here my darling." (That did it) as she came over. He gave her a big hug. Wickham gave a wicked grin once she couldn't see it and rolled his eyes. Good god, she was obsessed with getting married, as if that would keep him loyal or even hold him there if he got bored or itchy feet.

Taking her by the shoulders he moved her away from him, and bent down and gave her a vigorous kiss. He continued for a good while softening her up so she'd allow him to take the diary. Moving her to the bed, he reached back to move the bags onto the floor. He continued to kiss and caress her until she was breathless. Thinking that should be enough, Wickham asked, "Is there any of this in there?"

"No! Of course not, She knew nothing of us!"

"Not us, silly, what we've been doing."

"I don't know. But I certainly encouraged her to write about it."

"Here, let me look." Wickham held out his hand for the diary again. This time his efforts were rewarded. Blowing her a kiss, he took the book and opened it to the last few entries. While she leant against him, her fingers running through his hair, Wickham started to read. As he read, her entries were everything that he could have hoped for! This diary would be worth thousands.

"Oh, you wonderful woman."

She sat back looking very pleased with herself.

"You were right, Darcy will pay hundreds of pounds for this." Damn! Her smile dropped. She was too astute to be fobbed off with that small a share. "What I mean is… ah… to just to stop this page being published in a scandal sheet. Add up all the pages, it's a fortune. Almost as much as we could get for threatening to marry her."

That worked! Wickham saw her smile return, taking off his coat and hanging carefully it over the end of the bed, he started to unlace his shirt. "Come here, let's celebrate."

* * *

><p>Wickham was well into their amorous activities, but the small part of his brain that was always aware of what was going on started to nag at him. Feeling aggrieved to be interrupted before getting to the really good bits, Wickham stood up and pulled up his breeches. Staggering slightly as he was still pulling them up, Wickham stood for a moment trying to determine the source and reason for his sense of unease.<p>

"Come back to bed, darling."

"Shhh…" Wickham hissed in return. No, can't work out what it was, but best check.

Buttoning off his breeches, Wickham put on his coat and walked to the door. Opening it and looking out, he saw nothing. There was less noise from the common room than usual, but that happens.

"What is it dear?" She said from the bed.

Closing the door, Wickham turned. "Nothing. It was nothing." Wickham started to take off his coat, walking towards the chair to hang it up properly, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, so put back on again. Drawn to the grimy window, he leant over the chair and peered out and down into the inn's rear yard. Something was definitely going on, but it was hard to say what. Wickham's sense of unease was strong, so he grabbed a random item of clothing off the chair and wiped. Now with a clear view, he saw a number of redcoats, all armed (armed?) moving around in the yard.

"What can you see, Wickham, darling?"

"The militia are in the yard."

"But I weren' followed, 'onest? An I told everyone you was at the White Swan."

Why would she be worried? That was an odd response. The diary. She picked up the diary after the argument, so if she took it, what else did she take. Wickham got a real bad feeling. "What did you take?"

"Nothing. I didn't take nuffin."

"You took the diary. So what else did you take?"

"Nuffin' I took nuffin."

Wickham new she was lying. Her speech always reverted to that of her childhood spent in the London slums when she was stressed or excited. Knowing this always made it easy to read her. Ignoring her protests of innocence, Wickham bent down and ripped her bag open. On top was a silver backed mirror and brush, a silver comb and one necklace caught in the brush's bristles. The initials GD and the Darcy crest clearly engraved on at least one of the toiletry items. God damn it. Bloody hell!

Grabbing something, probably the brush or mirror, Wickham turned brandishing it, his anger obvious enough that she cowered away from him, pulling up the sheet.

"Nothing? You stupid bitch! Do you know what this means?" Thrusting the mirror, oh it was the mirror, at her he stomped over to the bed.

"What? It were only a itty bity thin', in case yous went off 'afore me." She was visibly shaken. And, so she should be.

Wickham threw the mirror at her. It glanced off her shoulder before hitting the wall behind and shattering. "That thing, and the rest of the stuff in your bag is worth enough to hang you. And by coming here, hang ME! Well, that ain't happening!"

By now he was standing over her, the last words punctuated with the meaty slap as his right fist caught her in the side of her face. She screamed in pain. So he hit her again, this time with his left, but she was ducking by now and, rather than catch her on the other side, Wickham caught the top of her head, a glancing blow but still it slammed her head against the wall.

Ow! Shaking his left hand, the bitch had a hard head. As satisfying as it would be to teach her a lesson she wouldn't forget in a hurry, he didn't have any time left, if the redcoats were already here.

Think Wickham, think.

His only saving grace was they would not know who he was, but that advantage wouldn't last long. Grabbing the diary (as the most valuable thing in the room) Wickham stuffed into his coat pocket, having to swap sides when his first attempt got stuck on the pistol already there. So it ended up in the pocket with his wallet. Wallet. Good. Best not to leave that behind. Looking around he spotted his boots so rammed them on to his feet. Everything else will have to stay.

Taking a few deep breaths, Wickham prepared to walk calmly down and out of the inn. They would be looking a fugitive not a gentleman going about his business. He'd done this several times before, walking out under the noses of the heavies sent to find him.

Wickham opened the door, and as he stepped out, there was a sharp tug on his coat, pulling him back. It turned him sideways, so he stumbled out, rather than step nonchalantly as planned. Looking right, he saw her grabbing for the diary in his right pocket.

"Give it me, you ain't leaving wid it." She had a firm grip on his coat and was scrambling for the diary.

"Bugger off. This is all your fault." Wickham gave her a shove, but it failed to dislodge her.

"It's mine."

"There he is! And that might be her!" Wickham registered a male's voice from the corridor. It sounded like Richard! So he stepped into the hallway dragging a stumbling Mrs Younge with him, as she wouldn't let go. And there were Darcy and Richard walking purposefully down the hallway towards him. Richard was pointing in his direction and looking back, talking to several others behind. Wickham could not make out who they were, but the red coats were enough to realise they'd bought militia with them.

"It's Wickham. There Lieutenant, arrest that man."

Wickham had to move fast. Grabbing Mrs Younge, caught off guard she stumbled forward, Wickham pushed her at the party now rushing towards him. Still wearing little other than a sheet, she proved a useful impediment to the advancing party. Wickham ran down the hall away from his pursuers. He desperately tried to think where this corridor went, hoping that it wasn't a dead end.

The hall turned left. Forced to continue around, Wickham saw only the hall end with a small window, 10 or so yards further ahead. Bugger! Now what? A second look showed on the right, towards the end of the corridor, there were narrow stairs leading down. With no other option other than surrender (and Wickham was not prepared for that, he'd lose the diary, and any chance of avoiding the hangman's noose, or, at very best deportation). As he ran down the narrow stairs as best he could, the sounds and smells coming up suggested this lead to the kitchens, but hopefully, also a way out.

Without knowing how, he was aware that his right hand was now holding his pistol, realising that he took it out at some point to stop it banging against his side as he ran. Not sure whether it was a good idea or not, Wickham was pleased that he had got it out when he saw a maid coming up the stairs. As soon as she saw the pistol she screamed, then turned and fled. Definitely an advantage then, as the stairs were only wide enough for one. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Wickham cursed as he stumbled, but recovered.

That gave Wickham a moment to look around. Left was definitely the kitchens. Right was a wide corridor that led to the common room with a number of soldiers milling around in it, the maid's scream meant they were looking his way. Ahead was a corridor that led out to the yard, but the open door at the other end was letting in another few redcoats. Can't go that way either.

Taking the only route not blocked by the local militia, Wickham headed towards the kitchens. In his hurry, he almost missed the steps after the entrance leading down to the kitchen proper. His drawn pistol caused a great deal of screaming from the kitchen's occupants, but the door to outside was free. Great, I've got a chance, Wickham pushed a scullery maid out of the way, but just in time to see the outside door open and yet another (good God, did Darcy get the whole regiment hunting him?) soldier enter that way.

Shit, I'm trapped. Bloody hell, now what? The soldier in the door was joined by another.

"Wickham. Give up." Darcy's voice came from behind him.

Turning, Wickham saw Darcy standing at the top of the steps, Richard alongside him holding a sabre. An number of others in redcoats behind them. I've one last chance, let's use Darcy's nature against him. Wickham reached out and grabbed the nearest maid and with his left arm clasped her tight to him. As he bought up his pistol to her head Wickham looked straight at Darcy. "He's how it goes. You let me and this young miss out the back. Then you'll all go back into the inn while I get on a horse and get out of here, or this young girl follows me to hell."

"No." "I'll get him sir." "He's cornered, don't let him escape." "Sergeant, send Grant...""NO!"

Darcy's counter-command rang loud and clear across the kitchen. Wickham smiled, as all the soldiers stopped their rush towards him. Good, Darcy is acting as I predicted.

"So Darcy, are you going to tell these good men to back off?"

"No, Darcy, don't let him." Richard also was acting as Wickham assumed he would, but he knew who really gave the orders, even though Richard was a few years older than Darcy.

"No Richard." Wickham saw Darcy hold out his right hand to prevent Richard from stepping down in to the kitchen.

"Alright Wickham, let the girl go, put the diary on the bench and we'll go outside, just the two of us." Darcy stepped down one step closer. Wickham smiled, good, Darcy's sense of morality might just allow him to get out after all.

"Darcy, are you crazy?" Wickham frowned and thought, damn you Richard, stay out of it. Thankfully, Darcy also said the same "Richard, No. I will deal with this. Well George, let the girl go."

"And let go of good hostage, not bloody likely."

"You can have me instead." Wickham saw Darcy try to take one more step down but was held back by his cousin. Darcy shook him free, and stepped down. Damn, Richard stepped closer too, almost in reach of a surprise lunge. And that was too close. Pointing the pistol at Darcy, Wickham said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Back up Richard, oh and all you others. Can't you see me and Darcy here are having a conversation. It's not polite to eavesdrop."

Darcy got the hint, and said to the others, "Do as he says. Please give us space to converse." There were sounds of people moving. Wickham took quick glances to see the soldiers back up. Wickham turned the girl so he could see the back door. Good, the soldiers had moved away from it. Richard had to say quite a bit to the soldiers behind him to get them to leave, but in the end they did.

"Okay Darcy, you me and this pretty young miss will go out that door."

Darcy shook his head. "No Wickham, just you and me. Let the girl go." Wickham could see Darcy was not going to let him keep her as a hostage.

"Fine, you are worth more than her anyway." Wickham gestured for Darcy to come closer with his pistol, while letting the maid go. As soon as the maid was released, she scrambled off to hide behind the main workbench, where the rest of the staff were.

"That's good Wickham, now the diary."

"I don't have it."

"Yes you do, Mrs Younge told us you took off with it. Honour amongst thieves and all of that."

"What if I say no?"

"Then the deal is off, her diary stays here or so do you."

"You risk a lot for a book."

"My sister is worth it. I will not let you attempt to ruin her."

"Are you prepared to die for her reputation then?"

"Are you prepared to die as well? That is the choice Wickham."

"If I do leave the diary, you promise me you'll not come after me. And when I mean you, that means you both, your violent cousin standing just behind you is included."

Wickham saw Darcy step back up to his cousin and say something, but too quietly for him to hear. There appeared to be a brief argument before Richard acquiesced.

"Agreed. You leave the diary here and you and I will walk out that door."

"No, I'll give you the diary only once I'm on a horse."

"Sorry Wickham, I'm not... No!" Wickham heard the sound of breaking glass behind him. He turned to see the barrel of a rifle appear through the breaking glass. Wickham realise it was all over. This was going to be the end, but at least he could take Darcy with him. As the rifle behind him fired, Wickham had turned to aim as best he could at his nemesis. As the heavy rifle bullet slammed into him from behind, Wickham's last conscious act was to pull his own trigger.

As he fell forward he saw someone else fall in front of him. Smiling as his life's blood left his body Wickham thought, Darcy's wealth didn't mean anything in the end. We are both equal in death.

* * *

><p><strong>.<br>**

**Finis.**

.

**His story did not have a happy ending. **

**He didn't end as the hero getting the girl. **

**Not every knight survives his battle with the dragon.**


	20. Part 2, Relatives  Intermission

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 8 - Intermission**

.

He looked up from his position on the floor.

Where was he? Can't remember.

The pain was intense, so much he almost couldn't think.

Why was his head wet?

What was the red liquid he was lying in?

Blood? Blood! Oh god, he was dying!

Then he saw the source of most of it.

Another man.

Wickham.

If Wickham was there, now he remembered, he must be in the kitchen.

Wickham must have shot him, but since he could still think, he wasn't dead.

He moved his head. Heard an indistinct "Don't move sir. The doctor is coming."

The maid was sobbing in someone's arms.

He smiled.

As he faded back into unconsciousness his thoughts were,

Good, good...

.

.

**I'm not sorry about the end of last chapter, but Wickham did see himself as a hero. So the epitaph did apply. But I won't let you think that this is the end.**


	21. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 9

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 9**

**.**

**This is now the full (and edited) version of Chapter 9. While the first 2,000 words are what was posted a few days ago, this is 8,000 words so has a lot of additional material.  
><strong>

.

Elizabeth stood beside her young friend, her hand resting on Georgiana's shoulder for comfort. Georgiana was sitting at the window overlooking the harbour, her eyes fixed on nothing, leaning back against Elizabeth's solid presence. It was obvious her young charge was bewildered and bereft. Thankfully most of the tears had ceased. There would be more, but for now the young lady appeared calm, almost serene. In many ways that made Elizabeth worry more. She wondered what she could do to help, but how do you gift someone the maturity that only came through having to make hard choices yourself. Elizabeth still lived with the choices she made all those years ago.

It was times like this that Georgiana made Elizabeth feel so old. It was a gulf much wider than the five actual years that separated them. She remembered how bewildered she had been at fifteen, when she suddenly had a similar, if comparably worse situation thrust on her. Her heart filled with sympathy, thinking of the pain Georgiana must be feeling. Hers was a young innocent heart, and from what Georgiana had said, that man had not just broken her heart but ripped it out and stomped all over it.

Georgiana move purposely under her hand and turned to look up at Elizabeth.

"He didn't love me did he?"

"No dear he didn't."

"It was always the money, wasn't it?"

"It does appear that way. I could sugar coat it, and tell you otherwise but I think you are too clever for that."

"Thank you, Lizzie. You at least, treat me like I'm no longer a child."

"Well, dearest Georgie, you are no longer child. Not after today."

Georgiana gave a weak smile, then stood and embraced Elizabeth. Again the tears flowed. "But why did he do it? Why? I loved him so much…"

Elizabeth stood there holding her, making non-committal soothing noises. She vowed, whatever the nasty brother tried to do to prevent it, she would be there for Georgiana. One of the hardest things from five years ago was having to leave Jane and Charlotte behind. In many ways Georgiana had it worse, Elizabeth had Aunt Gardener, and there were always the letters, Georgiana appeared to have no one but her brother and, now, her. So in reality, only her. A fat lot of good Mr Darcy would be if his previous insensitive questioning was anything to go by. Probably tell her not to be so emotional and stop crying. Then probably lock her up in their estate up north for years, only bringing her out to meet men he thought were 'suitable'. In other words stuck up, arrogant unfeeling so-an-so's just like him. Oh, and her other guardian, the cousin, Richard, a Colonel in the Army, Georgiana informed her both had to somehow approve of the suitor before Georgiana could get married, what sort of archaic rule was that?

Elizabeth smiled at the thought of the pair of them patrolling around, inside and out, watching for rakes and scoundrels. I suppose it not that funny, but you have to see humour where you can find it. Georgiana most recent decent into tears had subsided. She looked back up at Elizabeth again, "Not all men are bad? Are they Lizzie?"

"No dear, some men are good." Said Elizabeth thinking about her uncle, Mr Gardener.

"My brother is a good man, isn't he? Isn't he…"

"Hmm. I'm sure he is good to you, dear." Probably best to distract her.

"Georgiana, what do you think about arranging refreshments for the gentlemen and soldiers when they return? They will be needing it, I am certain."

"I can't."

"Don't worry, we will work it out together. Shall we go talk to Mrs Pennywise?"

Georgiana shook her head, looking withdrawn, frightened. Maybe it was step too far. "It's alright. We can deal with it later. Do you want some tea?"

Georgiana nodded. Elizabeth gave her a quick squeeze, then left her sitting on the chair, staring off into the distance. Elizabeth drew the bell pull and waited. Before long a maid opened the door. Elizabeth was in the middle of arranging for tea when Georgiana gave an almighty scream. Forgetting all about the tea, Elizabeth rushed over to find Georgiana in hysterics. "What is it, dear? Shh, there, there. Deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out, and again, breathe in, breathe out."

Georgiana buried her head in Elizabeth's shoulder. Through the cries of anguish, she was able to make out "He's dead… he's dead." Gosh she must have really been in love. Poor girl, he rips her heart apart, but when he dies, she still thinks her life is over. Elizabeth tried to calm her. "Shh, it will be alright. We'll get through this together. Shh, it is not certain, how do you know?"

Georgiana pointed out the window. There, just coming up the path from the road was a bunch of soldiers, a pair of them in the middle carrying a stretcher. On the stretcher was a body, lying lifeless, with a dark green coat, well soaked with blood, covering it. The body's head was wrapped in linen, with enough blood having leaked through be visible from this distance. There was no sign of Mr Darcy or the Cousin – although he could be one of the Officers following, also looking drawn and pale.

Elizabeth had a sinking feeling, that coat, wasn't Mr Darcy wearing a coat that colour today? Good god, now that does explain Georgiana's reaction. She's just lost her innocence and now also her brother in one day. Elizabeth also felt a good deal of sadness at the thought of Mr Darcy dead or dying. She admitted she didn't like the gentleman, but somehow it felt like the world would be a lesser place without him. And Georgiana spoke particularly well about him, so he was an admirable brother, if nothing else.

"Shh, Georgie. I'm here. I'll always be here. As long as you need it." Having never lost someone very close to her, Elizabeth was at a loss. What could she say? Here all her experience of the world and all its hardship and misfortunes was not enough. Feeling more helpless than she had for a very long time, Elizabeth just held the young girl as she sobbed, rocking her gently as she remembered her mother doing when she was little, before her mother gave up.

She heard the commotion as the returning party came inside and up stairs. They took the body to a room further down the hall. In amongst all the confusion, soldiers talking on top of each other, Elizabeth made out that someone was getting a doctor and surgeon. Realising this means Mr Darcy was not dead, they would need a doctor for a death certificate, but no one called a surgeon for a dead person, Elizabeth breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Georgie, dear. Listen to me, please listen. He's not dead. He's injured, but he's not dead. It will be alright. They are getting a doctor and surgeon. It will be alright. Shh dear, shh."

Georgiana quietened. Elizabeth hoped that she was correct, that her brother was not dying in the next room. "Georgiana. Do you want me to go and see? I'll be right back."

Georgiana nodded her head but then failed to let go. Elizabeth wasn't sure what to do now. Should she go or should she stay? "Georgie, dearest, you need to let go so I can leave. Will you?"

Georgiana's answer was to cling more tightly.

"You do want to know how your brother is, don't you?"

Again Georgie nodded, but there was no relaxing of her embrace.

Elizabeth came to a decision. This is for your own good, Georgie, you need to know. Elizabeth stood up, gravity helping to release her embrace. Torn, Elizabeth led Georgiana to her bed, and assisted her to lie down. Georgiana immediately curled up hugging a pillow. Elizabeth threw the rug from the end of the bed over her and then quickly walked to the door.

Stepping out into the hallway, it looked like the entire household staff were gathered around the far room.

"Ahem." Clearing her throat got their attention.

"So don't you all have duties?" There were a number of sheepish looks. "Then I guess you need to go do them." Seeing the housekeeper, Elizabeth continued. "Mrs Pennywise, have you arranged refreshments for the soldiers? What about preparing for the arrival of the doctor or surgeon, hmm?" Suitably chastised, Mrs Pennywise rushed her nosey charges off to do something useful.

Waiting until they all filed past her, Elizabeth moved rapidly to the door then looked in. The injured man looked bad. Just lying there, not moving at all. Oh dear, maybe it was that bad… oh, he breathed. Elizabeth let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding with an audible sigh. There were a few soldiers in the room. Most were standing against the sides and talking in very low tones. But one, with less of the gold bits was sitting besides the bed, staring with desolated look. Doesn't look like anyone has offered to help. "Do you need anything?" Elizabeth said to the room in general.

The soldier besides the bed looked up, and in an Irish accent said, "Ma'am, a bowl o'water and a few cloths, if you could." He went back to staring at the injured man.

"Certainly." Elizabeth rang the bell pull then stepped into the hallway. Intercepting the rushing maid most of the way to the stairs, Elizabeth passed on the request, then waited. Before long the maid returned with a jug of water and some torn linen cloths. Taking them, Elizabeth bought them to the Irish soldier. He gave her a look of heartfelt gratitude, and proceeded to clean the blood of the patient's face. Elizabeth noticed the livid bruise and swelling below the bandaged area, so the bit covered must be a lot worse. Oh, dear this is not good, head injuries are always bad.

Elizabeth was about to ask for details when there was the sound of several men talking as they came up the stairs and along the hallway. Elizabeth hoped that this was the doctor so she could give Georgiana actual news about her brother not just her own guesses. She stood back against the wall, hoping not to be noticed and shooed away, looking at the men as they arrived.

First in was an older man, but still vigorous, well dressed, ah Doctor Warren. Following him was a smaller man, with a shuffling walk, carrying a bag and already wearing the blood splattered apron of his trade, Mr Cartwright, the surgeon. Then, in a red coat, which threw her for a moment, was Mr Darcy…!

But if that was Darcy, who…? what…? Who ever he was, Georgie needed to know, Mr Darcy was all right. Picking up her skirts, Elizabeth ran past the men, sobbing with relief of being able to tell Georgiana her brother was okay.

* * *

><p>Darcy escorted the doctor and surgeon into the room where Richard lay. Darcy hoped Richard would recover fully from his wounds. Having survived several years of having all the enemy could throw at him, unscathed, then to be injured, possibly killed by a fellow Englishman? Life is very strange indeed.<p>

As he stepped into the room, Darcy was surprised by a gasp by Miss Smith. She then ran, sobbing from the room. Another incomprehensible act on a day full of them. Not knowing what to make of it, he let it go, concentrating on what the doctor and surgeon had to report. At the same time, seeing Darcy arrive, the Militia officer's departed, nodding goodbye, but not saying anything.

The doctor was experienced with dealing with these sorts of wounds, although not usually this new. Ramsgate was one of the ports that soldiers injured on the peninsular arrived in England. While the doctor explained that, although the head wound was a worry, Richard's unconsciousness could only be seen as a blessing, as it would allow the surgeon to remove the pistol ball quickly. It will also allow him to set his wrist and stitch closed the gunshot and head wound.

The surgeon opened his bag and removed a range of instruments, the shape and nature made Darcy, normally a strong man, feel slightly queasy. In a business-like manner, the surgeon started on the leg wound. Thankfully, Sergeant O'Connor, who probably far more used to this, offered to help. It was not that Darcy wouldn't help, it just that he was glad O'Connor did. The noises as the surgeon dug around in his cousin's leg for the ball was bad enough.

For as a much as a distraction as the desire to know, Darcy thought about how it came to this. The events leading up to it were a bit hazy. He remembered sending the militia off at Wickham's request, which meant Wickham had to let the maid go free. Then there was the argument about leaving the diary. Darcy understood why Wickham insisted on taking the diary, but was money that important to him? That he'd risk his life for it? Should he have offered Wickham money earlier? If he did, could it have been resolved without his childhood friend dead and his cousin lying near lifeless as well?

Darcy's brow furrowed. If the events prior to the shots were hazy, the actual climatic event was etched into his memory, playing over and over. The window broke, a rifle poked through. Darcy remembered yelling to try and stop Wickham being shot, but too late. Whoever had done the deed, had intended to shoot Wickham from the start. The local magistrate will call it shot dead while in the commission of a kidnapping, but Darcy knew it was murder. And the firer was culpable in his cousin's injuries as well.

It was then that things slowed down, almost like they were all trapped in congealing amber. Wickham's pistol came round, at that moment Darcy knew it was pointed directly at him. He saw Wickham's fingers start to tighten on the trigger. Then the musket fired and Darcy remembered Wickham's look of surprise and pain as he was thrown forward by the impact. At the time Darcy knew he was relieved to see that this caused Wickham's pistol to move left, away from himself. But had he known the consequences, better had it not moved at all. The hammer came down, the gunpowder flashed, Darcy was sure he felt the pistol ball pass by him.

Darcy remembered standing there, in shock as Wickham completed his fall, then attempting to step down to help, as if he could have done anything for Wickham at that point. That was when Richard, hit in the right thigh must have fell forward, hitting his head on the corner of the stairwell and kitchen walls, before landing awkwardly on his right wrist, breaking that. It was at the end of this that Richard careened into Darcy, sending him sprawling as well. Darcy landing hard on both hands, ending up almost face to face with Wickham. Darcy could not forget looking across to Wickham to see him smile as the last of his life gushed from his chest. Why would he smile? Why?

That smile broke whatever spell he was under, and time switched to seemingly running too fast. Richard's silence was even more eerie as a counterpoint to the screaming coming from the kitchen staff as the realisation dawned of what had just happened in front of them. The events from that point on seemed to have blurred again. Darcy wracked his brain to try to resolve all the events he remembered into a coherent narrative, when he was interrupted.

"Psst." A woman's voice came from behind him. "Mr Darcy."

He hadn't asked for a servant. He turned ready to rebuke whichever maid had disturbed them, to realise it was Miss Smith. He stepped closer and said in a low voice. "What is it Miss Smith?"

"Mr Darcy, I know you need to be here, but your sister really needs to see you, I can watch in your stead, if you like?"

"What have you done to Georgiana?"

Again with that angry look. Women!. "Done, I have done nothing. But she thinks the man lying there is you."

"Why would she? Didn't she ask someone?"

"But can't you see, she saw an injured man with your coat and could only assume it was you. No one came to tell her anything. You all just forgot about her. Anyway I told her, but she won't believe me. You must go to her. Now! He can wait."

Darcy suddenly realised how it must seem from Georgiana's point of view. "Thank you Miss Smith. I have been remiss. Yes, please stay and watch while Richard is attended to."

* * *

><p>With that comment, Elizabeth realised it was the cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. While not her brother, Georgiana would still take this hard. Elizabeth stood at the door, rather than go in, to be able to intercept Georgiana if she wanted to rush in. As a mother now, Elizabeth had recently started attending births, assisting Mrs Carter with her midwife activities. Several of these were rather visceral even gory. While she had become used to this, it was not a scene Georgie should be exposed to. Thankfully Georgiana stayed in her room with her brother.<p>

Elizabeth was kept busy, as an intermediary, requesting the maids to bring more water or cloths or additional bandages, as the original ones had to be cut off, so could not be reused. She also arranged for the dirty bandages and the bloody water to be taken away.

Elizabeth watched as Mr Cartwright started on sewing up the deep gash on the Colonel Fitzwilliam's forehead, having started bandaging the thigh wound before she arrived. She felt a pang of jealously, as his stitches were neater and far more even than hers ever were. Elizabeth had the irreverent thought that he must do the most amazing embroidery, almost laughing at the image of him bent over an embroidery frame. She silently giggled at him hanging a sampler in his premises.

Doctor Warren stood back looking important and grave as Mr Cartwright did all the work, as usual. She didn't see the point of a doctor. The surgeon did all the work, the apothecary produced the physic and potions, a doctor just stood there looking wise and brought out the leeches. But she supposed he makes the wealthy, who were the only ones able to afford him, feel like they are doing everything possible. Elizabeth thought that the Colonel's moan while Mr Cartwright set and bound his wrist was good sign, and the Colonel's batman looked relieved as well.

In time, the surgeon's work was finished. While Mr Cartwright wiped down the tools of his trade and put them away, Doctor Warren did his incomprehensible 'doctor stuff'; peering into the patient's eyes after prying open each eyelid, listening to him breath, feeling for his pulse, lifting and dropping limbs, and other things that Elizabeth had no idea what he was doing, let alone why. This, of course, was accompanied by the usual humming and harring, clicks, 'hmmms' and 'yes, yes'. The routine was exactly the same as the few times he came to see Amy-Jane. At Mrs Carter's insistence, of course. Elizabeth trusted Mr Cartwright if it was a physical injury, and the apothecary for illness. Elizabeth supposed he'll go off to see Mr Darcy and talk at length about 'the balance of his humours', 'relieving tensions in his internal organs' and other incomprehensible medical terminology, she was convinced was just to show how much more learned he was to the common man.

So caught up in her thoughts she didn't realise that Mr Cartwright had packed up and, on his way out, was speaking to her. She only caught the last of what he said. "…you here?"

"Umm, sorry I wasn't attending."

"I just asked ma'am, what brings you here?"

"Oh, I thought that's what you said. I am a friend of Mr Darcy sister. I understand the patient is her cousin."

"So I believe. Ironic isn't it?"

"Why?"

"As an officer in the regulars, he's spent years leading men in battle. Not a scratch. While on leave, in England of all places, a mad man did what all the frenchies in the world couldn't and put a bullet in him."

"Yes it is isn't. Will he live?"

"Only God knows that, ma'am. I have done my best, oh and Doctor Warren as well. But if an infection does not set in, then he has every chance of recovering the use of his leg."

"So that is good news?"

"Partly. His wrist will be fine. The leg… well, as I said a good chance of a full recovery. It is the head wound that is the most worrying." Elizabeth made a non-committal noise, hoping to get a bit more information to pass on to Georgiana, and she supposed to Mr Darcy as well, as he would only get to hear from Doctor Warren.

"Yes, head wounds are always problematic. There is so little we can do. We can but wait, wait and pray, and hope. But if he doesn't wake sometime tomorrow then I have to say his chances are slight, and worsen the longer he doesn't wake. He is a healthy specimen, but either the head or leg wound could have easily proved fatal, and may yet do so. I don't wish to alarm you, but I thought it best to…"

Doctor Warren interrupted, having finished his examination. "Excuse me Cartwright. Oh, greetings ma'am. Well, the patient has the best possible chance if he's in your hands, Elizabeth. Mr Darcy has made an excellent choice in hiring you as his nurse. I will tell him so."

"You misunderstand doctor. I am here only as a friend of the Colonel's cousin, Miss Darcy. No I have not been hired, and I ask that you say no such thing to Mr Darcy."

"More's the pity. I credit your care as being the reason young Miss Clooney is now fit and well."

"You flatter me, sir. I do not deserve such praise. It was god's will she recovered."

"Say what you will ma'am, I know my business, and your contribution was invaluable, was it not Cartwright?"

"Yes, yes. You are too modest, Elizabeth Smith." Mr Cartwright's head was bobbing up and down furiously in agreement. "Remember just recently, when you, ma'am…"

Elizabeth felt herself starting to blush, embarrassed by the praise. Figuring that only moving them on would stop their gushing all over her, Elizabeth stepped back and, gesturing down the hallway with one arm, said, "Gentlemen, I am sure I should not keep you. I understand there are refreshments available downstairs."

Mr Cartwright bobbed his head a few more times, then hurried off in his usual scrambling walk. Rake thin, yet he ate like a horse and never passed up a free meal. Doctor Warren stood there deciding whether to accept being dismissed for a moment before doffing his hat with a, "Ma'am." Then he followed his colleague at a more dignified pace, to depredate Mr Darcy cellar, forgoing food over good wine if the choice ever presented itself.

Once they had gone, Elizabeth looked back into the room. The Irish soldier had cleaned up the patient and the room, so he and it no longer looked like they were in a surgeon's tent. He had also managed, (how was it possible?) to change the Colonel into his nightshirt. Well, thought Elizabeth, he's as presentable as he would ever be. She'd risk bringing Georgiana in to see him, no point hiding his condition. She waited until the soldier picked up the last of the dirty things and headed to the door, which was also in her direction.

When he was close enough to hear, she whispered, "I'm planning to go get Miss Darcy once you've managed to get rid of that." Nodding towards the bloody cloth in his hands. "Do you mind bringing back some tea? I am sure she will be in here a while. Oh… and a few sandwiches, I doubt she'll want to eat anything. I'll watch him while you're gone"

"No' a'tall, ma'am. I be righ' back." He hurried out.

Elizabeth wandered over to Georgie's cousin, and stood by the bed watching the patient. Colonel Fitzwilliam would not ever be described as a handsome man, and he certainly paled in comparison with his cousin, Mr Darcy. He didn't have Mr Darcy's imposing figure or deep authoritative voice. But, in his favour, he did have a disarming smile, and although neither particularly tall or broad, his figure was still trim and gentlemanly. She also remembered how he had defended her from Mr Darcy's insinuations. He was one of the few gentlemen that seemed to see past, or at least capable of ignoring, her situation once he knew of it.

For a moment Elizabeth wondered; if things had been different, and it had to have been very different, if she had first met Colonel Fitzwilliam about now, what could have happened? But, how would they have met? She would most likely be still in Meryton, a place so unlikely to meet soldiers to be laughable, and as for him, why would he, in fact anyone, notice the younger sister of someone so beautiful as Jane? Embarrassed at her own foolishness, Elizabeth started to tidy up the room, while waiting for the Irishman to return. Which he did, thankfully before Elizabeth had finished tidying, and needed to look for some other diversion from her unbidden painful daydreams.

The Irishman obvious noticed her distraction as he cleared his throat to get her attention. "Here's the tea ma'am. And some sand'iches for the youn' miss."

"Thank you… Sorry, we haven't been introduced. Elizabeth Smith." She curtsied.

"Sergeant O'Connor ma'am. Sergeant Shamus O'Connor. Please to meet you, I'm the Colonel's batman." He doffed his forage cap. "Best I carry on in here then, ma'am."

"Of course. Sorry. I'll be getting Miss Darcy." And with that Elizabeth left.

* * *

><p>Darcy was sitting besides Georgiana's bed, providing silent comfort, just with his presence apparently. They had talked, but not really talked. Georgiana seemed reluctant (maybe unwilling) to let him know how she was, thwarting any attempts he had made to discuss what had just happened with silence, monosyllable answers and sometimes even tears. Giving up, for now at least, Darcy went to return to see how Richard was doing, but Georgiana would not let him go. He found this extremely frustrating, she wanted him here, but while he was here for her and tried to help, she wouldn't let him.<p>

But Darcy supposed it was very early days, and she had several large shocks today, with the last probably being the worst. Maybe later I'll try to get to the bottom of why no one had bothered to tell Georgiana what had happened while he was away getting the Doctor and surgeon to attend. But at least she let him into the room this time, and even seemed genuinely pleased to see him, even though she still had that woman in attendance, probably getting close to his sister for what she could get out of it. Thinking of that woman, and here she is, appearing in the doorway as if his thoughts of her was a summons.

"Mr Darcy, a moment?" She smiled reassuringly, presumably at Georgiana, who must have seen her arrive.

Darcy got up and walked cautiously over to her.

"Mr Darcy, the surgeon and Doctor have finished and are downstairs partaking some refreshments. Your cousin has still not woken, but is lying peacefully. I was wondering… wondering if maybe… maybe Georgiana might want to come and visit him?"

"I don't think it's wise, my sister has had enough shocks for one day."

"Mr Darcy, while I will defer to your judgement, of course. But, from what the surgeon told me, I fear there is a chance the Colonel may not last until tomorrow." She stood there, clearly worried.

Darcy looked back at her sister, who seemed calm now. How could he inflict yet another shock on her while she was in this fragile condition? He was torn with indecision. Miss Smith had a valid point, if Richard did not survive the night, how could Georgiana forgive him for denying her the chance to be with him that one last time. Yet given how she was at the moment, and the way all his approaches seem to make things worse not better, what could he do, how could he inform her of Richard's condition. Maybe Miss Smith, who seemed to have the magic touch with his sister could tell her. No, she was his sister, so this was his responsibility.

"Mr Darcy, maybe I could speak to her, and, if she is agreeable, take her there?"

Who was this women? She gave every appearance of being able to read minds! "That would probably be for the best. Thank you." Said Darcy quite relieved.

"If you do not mind I will go speak with Georgiana. It may take some time, so maybe you could go to speak with the Doctor. Anyway, your cellar might just benefit from talking to him now, rather than later."

Darcy knew when he was being dismissed. He waited just long enough to see Miss Smith work whatever magic she did with Georgiana, raising the first smile he had seen since returning to the house. Shaking his head in disbelief, Darcy went downstairs to see what damage the Doctor was making to his cellar.

Directed to where the Doctor was waiting, Darcy walked in to see him holding a glass up to the window, examining it's characteristic colour. He turned as the door opened.

"Ah, Mr Darcy. Rather good drop of burgundy you have here."

Darcy noticed the dusty bottle, which had just been opened, standing next to another, although empty. "Yes, Doctor, it is a La Romanée-Conti 1778"

"As I said, a good drop. Don't see much of this around since the hostilities. Became too expensive."

"Quite." Darcy said with an edge to his voice. It was one of the best of his cellar he'd bought to Ramsgate.

"Good of you to share it." Waving the bottle at him, the Doctor continued, "Want a glass?"

"Thank you. I'll pour it myself". Darcy wandered over and relieved the Doctor of the bottle. Pouring a glass, thinking since it was now open, no point letting go to waste, but then he placed in back in the drinks cabinet, so the remainder would be available to drink with dinner. "So Doctor what is your diagnosis?"

The Doctor then proceeded to waffle on, trying to impress him with complex metaphysical terms. Darcy stood there half amused, I'm not one of your locals, impressed by your command of Latin and medical phraseology. By judicious interjected questions Darcy was able to decipher the following: Richard's broken wrist would heal in time with little or no fuss. The gunshot wound had fractured, but thankfully not shattered Richard's femur, adding a break to the wound, so was a cause for concern. But the concussion and swelling at Richard's temple was a much larger concern, although his skull appeared unbroken, the Doctor could not do anything for it, or say when or even if, Richard would wake. But as always, the biggest concern was infection. The wrist was a clean break with no broken skin, so no chance of infection there. However, both the head and gunshot wound had to be stitched, and that always bought risk of infection, with the size of the leg wound making it by far the likeliest candidate. Once again the Doctor had no answers to this, and the reality boiled down to, wait and pray.

While Darcy wished to move Richard back to London, to get the best care possible, even Darcy saw it was completely impossible. Maybe he could get a leading Doctor to come to Ramsgate? But then that would put the local Doctor Warren's nose out of joint and, unless the London doctor was prepared to come for the duration, Richard would be relying on the local doctor a good deal of the time. As the Doctor came to his rambling conclusions, Darcy felt his diagnosis was sensible and considered, it would just have been nice to have been told it in much fewer words.

"Thank you Doctor. So, as you say, the next week will be critical. I can assure you that he will receive the best possible care." Darcy added silently, that can be arranged in as small a place as Ramsgate.

"Oh, you have no need to worry about that. I see you already have one of the best nurses already."

"What do you mean?"

"Elizabeth Smith, sir. You have already obtained her services, or I assume you will do so. She is worth every penny you'll pay her and twice again. She said not to mention it to you, but I felt it best for you know how highly Mr Cartwright and I consider her ability with the ill or infirm. Although she usually asks for nothing, mind, in your case you have the means to be generous, unlike most of her patients. But don't worry, sir. We, that is to say we aldermen ensure her efforts get rewarded, where we can."

Darcy was frowning that this point. What, is Miss Elizabeth aiming to get paid for this? I suppose she has to generate an income somehow. Yet the doctor was saying she usually nurses others from charity?

"Well, thank you for your advice. Yes, Miss Smith is currently assisting. I shall seriously consider engaging her in that capacity long term." Darcy thought, will I? Where did that comment come from? I will need to watch myself, I'm speaking without thinking.

"We don't call her Miss Smith. No, not around here. Just call her Elizabeth or Elizabeth Smith or address her as ma'am. That way you won't upset anybody."

Darcy was puzzled by this. Why would using her correct name upset anyone? Oh well, small towns often had their local foibles, Lambton wasn't immune to them.

"Thank you for letting me know. I certainly did not mean to upset anyone."

"We are used to outsiders treating her poorly. There are some, particularly those she has helped directly, that take umbrage, even if she doesn't. Just wanted you to know as you are likely to be here a while, as your cousin will not be in a position to be moved anytime soon."

With that, the Doctor emptied his glass and looked around, obviously wanting a top up, but not rude enough to help himself when the host was in the room. To forestall having to waste more excellent wine on him, Darcy decided it best to change the subject. "So what do I owe you for today?"

The doctor named a figure, which was very reasonable. Darcy realised he should have objected a little as the doctor then added another amount for the surgeon's fees. Darcy knew this should be included in his first amount but obviously he thinks he can make a bit extra from someone from out of town. But, given that the combination was less than half a London doctor charged just for himself, it was neither here nor pulled out his wallet and handed over the full amount asked.

"Thank you sir. Let me know as soon as there is any change in your cousin's condition, any time tonight. I will be back to check on him early tomorrow."

Darcy had planned to go up to see Richard, leaving the good doctor to make his own way out, but his cellar, probably well depleted by Wickham, probably could not survive another guest's desires. "Thank you once again. Now I am sure you have other patients waiting." Darcy gestured the doctor towards the door. With one last look, unsuccessfully, for the bottle, the Doctor put his glass down and preceded Darcy out the door and into the front hall. Darcy nodded at the footman, who opened the front door.

"Goodbye Doctor Warren. I will send for you if Richard's condition changes."

"Please do that. Goodbye Mr Darcy."

Darcy watched as Doctor Warren left and, only after the front door was closed, turned to go up to Richard's room. He paused briefly to arrange the footman to take a writing desk up there, along with the accounts and all the correspondence in the study. He was likely to have time to go through the lot while Richard recovered; looking at what else Mrs Younge and Wickham could have been up to. And then there were all the letters he'd have to write. No, best send the Earl an express, and have him inform the other parties necessary. Oh… Darcy could not remember if the Countess was in London or not. Maybe it would be best to include her letter in with the express to his uncle. Darcy pondered this as he climbed the stairs.

Along the hallway he heard the two ladies talking in low tones. He increased the heaviness of his steps and coughed a few times to let them know he was coming. Entering the room, he saw Georgiana sitting in a chair besides the bed, her hand on Richard's shoulder. Elizabeth Smith was sitting alongside her. Georgiana gave a wide, if brief smile, then stood and came over to him.

"Fitzwilliam, Lizzie let me know what the Doctor thinks. But... But, do you think he will wake up soon?" Darcy looked at Elizabeth Smith, trying to determine what she may have said to his sister. She shook her head and mimed prayer. He agreed, best not to give her false hope.

"Dearest Georgie. It is in the hands of Our Lord now. Doctor Warren and the surgeon have done the best they can. But if we all pray, maybe God will allow him to wake soon."

"Oh Fitzwilliam I feel so helpless, and… and I… I caused it. It's all my fault!" Georgiana burst into tears again. Holding her Darcy whispered soothing words, trying to explain the Wickham was villain and the one at fault not her. Looking back at Elizabeth Smith, she was nodding her head and smiling in sympathy. He imagined she had dealt with this several times already. She stood up and came over to the pair of them.

"Georgiana." Pausing until she got his sister's attention, she continued, "I will have to go home to see to my daughter, but I will be back as soon as I can."

"Oh, Lizzie, don't go!"

"I must, dear, but your brother is here. Maybe you can read to your cousin, I am sure that he can hear you even if he doesn't respond. No? Not up to it? No, that's all right, you've had a very stressful day... Well how about you ask your brother to tell you stories of when they were both naughty boys together. I am sure he will have a few." She gave him a wicked grin and raised her eyebrows, ""Don't you?"

Darcy gave a wry smile. Yes it was true, the stories that came to mine when put on the spot like this, the recent ones were not suitable for a young lady, or earlier ones contained Wickham. Then he remembered, of course, Wickham never came with him to Lady Catherine's so anything at Rosings Park would be fine.

"Yes of course. Georgiana say goodbye to Elizabeth Smith and I will tell the saga of how the dent got in the suit of armour next to the east wing stairs at Lady Catherine's." Darcy was gratified to see he had managed to stop Georgiana's tears and even raise a weak smile.

"Goodbye Lizzie. Say hello and hug Amy-Jane for me."

"No problem dear. I will not be long. 'Bye. Goodbye Mr Darcy."

"Goodbye ma'am."

Once Elizabeth Smith left, Darcy proceeded to spin out the tail of two boys, a long and slippery banister, a pile of cushions liberated from their aunt's parlour and a very surprised parson, who had been sent to find them. At the end of this, Georgiana was no longer looking like she was about to start crying again. Thinking quickly, Darcy then remembered another tail about a boat race in the stream bordering Rosings, using paper boats made from the newly delivered London Times, which his aunt had not read yet, as the witch hunt for the servant that had the audacity to steal her paper before the real culprits were found. Now clearly amused, Georgie requested, no, demanded more stories. Darcy was happy to oblige. While most of the stories were as young boys, he was able to remember a few more recent ones suitable for her ears.

After a number of these stories, she was calm enough open to the suggestion to read to Richard. She chose a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets. That gave Darcy time to write and send the urgent expresses he needed, then once finished he enjoyed just sitting there hearing his sisters gentle, cultured voice pick out all the subtleties of emotion contained within.

Thanks to Elizabeth Smith's suggestion, the afternoon passed in a much happier manner than Darcy had expected. It was only when the servants came to light the candles, did Darcy realise that the whole day had passed. By this time Georgiana had listened to enough stories, done enough reading, to want to just sit, relaxing in his lap, as she did as a much younger girl. Darcy was very pleased that Georgiana was still turning to him for comfort, he had worried that somehow he had lost her, but that did not seem the case.

They had been sitting there for a while, both not feeling the need to say anything, Darcy particularly enjoying the moment when Elizabeth Smith returned. As he started to try to shift Georgiana so he could stand up, Elizabeth waved him down.

"Mr Darcy, Georgiana. Dinner is ready downstairs. I'll watch you cousin for a bit."

"Thank you, ma'am.' Actually using ma'am was a good compromise. It was nice of Doctor Warren to let him know. She had been of considerable help all day. While Darcy waited for his sister to rouse herself, he pondered on how to approach offering something for her services without offending. His sister seemed content to just sit here, she didn't seem to be moving.

"Georgie, you heard her, dinner is ready, come let's go." But Georgie just snuggled closer.

"Please, dearest you need to eat something." Georgie just shook her head.

"Please?" No answer, and no movement.

"Georgie. You need to eat. Stop this silliness! It is dinner time." Still nothing. He looked at Elizabeth Smith with a perplexed expression. Now what?

It was then that Elizabeth Smith took over, "Georgiana. Dear. I know you do not feel like eating, but you'll be no use to your cousin if you are fainting from hunger." With those words, Georgiana slipped off his lap and stood up. Well, there you go, once again she seemed to know exactly what to say. Darcy stood as well, and holding out his arm, proceeded to escort his sister to dinner.

Dinner was a quiet affair. The menu was thoughtful and the food properly cooked. It helped that the wine from the bottle opened earlier was excellent. Enquiring with Georgiana about the meal, she had no knowledge regarding its preparation, so he asked the servers, who said sir would have to tlak to Mrs Pennywise. So he did. Mrs Pennywise explained that earlier Elizabeth Smith had come into find that a menu had not been planned and the housekeeper couldn't just repeat yesterday's menu as they didn't have the right ingredients. So she spent a bit of time sitting with her to plan tonight's meal. Mrs Pennywise said how grateful she was for Elizabeth's help, as she did not want to let Mr Darcy down, with everything going on, but was too flustered with what had happened to know what to do. But she did assure Mr Darcy that she had all of the old menu's so she could just repeat them from now on.

Darcy realised that a mistress of the house would normally organise this, and with Mrs Younge gone, it was supposed to fall to Georgiana. How he wished to have Mrs Reynolds or Mrs Taylor here now. Georgiana will need someone to help her with her duties, maybe Mrs Taylor could send someone to assist? If they were going to stay here any length of time, he'll need a number of things. Georgiana had enough, but Richard will need a number of things also. Darcy had Sergeant O'Connor summoned. O'Connor was very happy to set out at first light to London, with a list of instructions. Darcy promised to write it a soon as he returned to Richard's room and asked him to return in an hour or so.

Darcy tentatively approached Georgiana with the subject of the menus and the management of the household. She explained that Mrs Younge had done all of it, but she was willing to try, if he allowed Lizzie to help her, because she knew Lizzie was much better at this that she could be. Out loud Darcy agreed, as what else could he do, but did wonder silently how she would know about how to do this, given her apparent age and background. There must be a lot more to her story than he supposed. It certainly seemed she had some of the skills taught to the daughter of the gentry.

Once dinner was finished, he escorted Georgiana upstairs, hoping to convince her to retire early. But Georgiana said she was too nervous and did not want to sleep just yet. When they entered the room, Elizabeth Smith had not been idle while they were downstairs. Apparently the Sergeant and her had rearrange the furniture to suit a sick room, and she was in the process of doing those little touches, that soften and brighten a room, something a needed a feminine touch. She smiled so spontaneously, so sweetly at Georgiana's entry, and got the same in return, Darcy wondered why he had even questioned in his mind that their friendship might not have been deep or real.

Darcy excused himself, explaining that as he was likely to be here for at least the rest of Georgiana's planned stay (that bought another genuine smile, at last little bits of his Georgiana shone through) he would have to write to instructions for Steele and Mrs Taylor, and his solicitor that Sergeant O'Connor would take back to London at first light. When asked, Georgiana did request if Mrs Taylor could send a few more of her practical dresses and more of her own library, to which Darcy readily agreed.

As he thought out and wrote down his instructions, the two ladies sat off to one side to talk, about what he couldn't tell, they spoke in voices too low to carry. In time Darcy had finished, not taking too much over an hour, so O'Connor did not have to wait for it long. The Sergeant excused himself as soon as it was handed over, given his early start.

Darcy had hoped to have Georgiana retire, but she still refused, complaining she was still too nervous to sleep. He suggested laudanum to help with that, but in an uncharacteristic outburst she accused Darcy of wanting to getting rid of her, as he didn't want to see the person that was to blame for Richard's injuries. Darcy tried to explain that, although her actions may have precipitated what happened, she should not accept the sole blame for Wickham's actions. This, it was very clear once he uttered it, was not the right thing to say, as it provoked such a hysteric reaction it took Elizabeth Smith considerable time to calm his sister. All accompanied by her glares, of course. It was so infuriating. Darcy had to event an excuse about getting some extra reading material and arranging extra candles. Which, of course, Elizabeth Smith had already though of and already arranged, plus altering the maid schedules so there would always be someone awake through the night.

When Darcy returned, taking enough time to 'select' his books (but in reality savouring a good stiff drink while he contemplated the enigma that was Elizabeth Smith). As he had come to expect, she had managed to get Georgiana to take laudanum and his sister finally was asleep.

Darcy settled into a comfortable chair that must have been carried up to the room during dinner and started to read, noticing Elizabeth Smith was doing the same opposite him.

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><p>.<p>

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**- What bits did you most enjoy?**

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	22. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 10

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 10**

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><p>Darcy woke feeling rather stiff and uncomfortable. Blinking his eyes against the breaking dawn streaming through a gap in the curtains, he sat bolt upright, hoping that what he remembered of yesterday was only a dream, a nightmare. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he saw Richard lying, as still as death... Oh, he breathed, phew... He pushed off the blanket (where did that come from?) and stood, stiff from sleeping part of the night in a chair. It must have been the entire period since he just 'rested his eyes' sometime after midnight.<p>

Oh Lord, who had cared for Richard? Darcy looked around in a momentary state of panic before he saw a tired looking Elizabeth Smith smiling weakly at him.

"Mr Darcy, I am sorry to report you cousin did not stir during the remainder of the night."

"Thank you ma'am. How long was I asleep?"

"Not that long, you must have had a very hard day yesterday. I thought it best if you were at least a little rested. Georgiana will need you."

"But what about you, have you been up all..."

She interrupted, "Do not worry about me, Mr Darcy, I will go home soon. Once I have helped Georgiana with her needs."

"There is no need, you should go home and rest."

She shook her head, "I cannot leave Georgiana, she specifically asked for me to help with her household duties."

"That can wait, go home and get some sleep, you must be exhausted. I will tell her she does not need to do anything today."

"I am not as tired as you imagine, bedside vigils are stock and trade for a mother. All children get ill at times and, while I have been blessed with a very healthy daughter, Amy-Jane has had her share."

"Even so, you will need to sleep, and you have your daughter to care for. I am sure her needs take precedence over my sister's duties. Particularly since I have thought it over and decide she will not have to take them on. I know enough of my housekeeper's duties to keep a household this small running during our stay."

Towards the end she started frowning. He'd said something wrong. Again. "While I will defer to your decision, Mr Darcy, have you considered Georgiana in this?"

"Of course I have, that is why I will save her from having to do it." What is she on about? I always consider others before making decisions that affect them.

"That is my point. Georgiana already blames herself for what happened and feels like you will reject her as a result. She knows, that in Mrs Younge's absence, she is supposed to take on the role of hostess. Would you have her think you do not trust her to do her duty, in this, as you, yourself say, small household?"

Darcy was about to rubbish this suggestion, but the nagging feeling that she could have a point, made him stop before dismissing her viewpoint.

"Do you know this, or are you just guessing?"

"I admit I do not know for certain, but we talked about it last night. She was very happy that you thought her capable of this. It is her first chance to practice the skills she will need as a gentlewoman, in an environment where her inevitable mistakes will not signify. And then over night you take that off her. I could be wrong, but I think she would see this as your lack of faith in her, which could only be the result of you blaming her for what has happened."

"But I don't blame her at all! How could she think that?

She looked down, hesitant, but after a moment looked straight back at him "Well, sir, you did say last night although her actions caused this, you did not hold her sole to blame for Mr Wickham's actions."

"I did not!"

"Not in those exact words, but think back on what you said just before Georgiana retired. If that wasn't the exact words you said, that is what I am sure she heard. And I have to say that is how I think she would interpret it, in her position. Mr Darcy, while you strive to be correct and logical, you should consider how others could perceive what you say."

Darcy was getting sick of being told off by this lady, either in words or glares. She must be a good five or more years his junior! Her impertinence had bordered on rudeness in a number of occasions. Yet, her insight of his sister was almost infallible. Biting back the need to give her a dressing down, Darcy thought about what she said. He couldn't remember exactly what he had said, but he remembered Georgiana's hysterical reaction well enough. If her paraphrase of what he had actually said was what Georgiana thought he meant, it would explain her reaction.

"Well I suppose an apology is in order. I am truly sorry for what I said, ma'am."

"No point apologising to me, you need to apologise to Georgiana. I best go to her now. You can watch your cousin while I help her with what she needs to do today. I'll send her your way once we've finished and I've headed home. You can apologise then."

Darcy just stood there, in stunned silence, as she curtsied, "Good day Mr Darcy."

"Good day, ma'am." He bowed in return. He watched as she left the room with the grace and carriage of a gentlewoman and the energy of someone freshly woken. Yet she had been up all night. That he did not doubt. Darcy rubbed his temple. He could feel a headache coming on. Why was it every time he crossed swords with this lady he felt he was always three moves behind. If she played chess, she'd be a formidable opponent.

Darcy moved across to the chair besides Richard's bed. He looked down at his cousin, for a moment Darcy thought he'd twitched, but it was an illusion caused by movement of the curtains casting shadows over his face.

Darcy felt a wave of sadness as her thought of everything that happened yesterday. He had nearly had a sister lost to polite society. Even if he maintained the connection, most others would not. He had lost a childhood friend, no matter what he was like now, Darcy remembered the boy Wickham been, and could have grown into. And now, the longer Richard did not wake, the greater the chance he'd loose him as well. Darcy wished to know who was Wickham's murderer, if only to know whom to blame for Richard as well. The memories of his beloved Uncle De Bough (so unlike his aunt) his mother and finally a father as well, all returned adding to his grief.

Darcy sat with his head in his hands. It was times like this that his responsibilities weighed the most heavily on him. Unlike most of his contemporaries, who only worried if their allowance would stretch to next quarter day, Darcy was already managing Pemberly, and not just the tenants but also the whole community, were reliant on decisions that only he could make. In many ways, Charles Bingley, was the only friend who had a hope of understanding this.

Darcy's thoughts drifted around, touching on moments from his past, various times spent with his mother, his father, Uncle De Bough, even his paternal grandmother. Some he had almost forgotten, others were of those times he cherished and recalled on many occasions. Memories came and went, some happy, some sad, but all coloured by the loss and growing fuzzy from age. The memories all circled his mind like carrion crows, pecking at his state of mind, fuelling his grief.

Stop being maudlin Darcy! He thought to himself. This doesn't get you anywhere other than a few more empty bottles, a missing day and feeling like death warmed up. Work however, work got you through the day, and the next, and the next after that. After his father died, it was the work that kept him from falling back into the downward spiral Richard had to rescue him from.

Darcy stood and strode to the desk and sat down. It was too early for any new mail, and there would not be anything from London for a few days yet. There was one letter for Georgiana, overlooked with everything that happened yesterday, he'll have to remember to give that to her. So Darcy started going through the accounts. There were enough mistakes and missing entries to take at least the morning to sort out, even without trying to account for all the missing money. After each correction, Darcy turned to look at Richard, hoping that miraculously he would have woken since the last time he looked.

He was interrupted not long into checking the accounts, but as it was Georgiana, it was far from unwelcome.

"Georgie, how are you this morning?"

"Very good Fitzwilliam. How are you?"

"A little sore, and feeling a bit grimy. Can you stay with Richard? I need to go freshen up."

"Of course, brother. When you are done, Mrs Pennywise has prepared breakfast."

"Thank you Georgie. I won't be long."

As he left to walk downstairs he had a nagging feeling he was suppose to say something to Georgiana, but couldn't remember what. Oh well, thought Darcy, if it was important, it'll come to me.

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><p>Darcy was back sitting at the desk, as Georgiana was reading to Richard, when a maid entered.<p>

"Mr Darcy, sir, the doctor is here."

"Send him up Hannah."

"Yes sir." Darcy watched as the maid curtsied and disappeared.

About a minute later Darcy stood as Doctor Warren was shown in.

"Morning Mr Darcy, Miss Darcy. How's the patient, hmm?"

Darcy indicated for Georgiana to leave. He squeezed her shoulder as she passed, whispering, "I will send for you as soon as he is gone." She smiled back at him, then left.

"No change Doctor. I take it, that this is cause for concern?"

"Not necessarily. But I'll know more once I've had a chance to have a look. So good sir, how are we this morning?" Darcy was about to reply when he realised the doctor was speaking to Richard, so he silently moved back to the desk. Turning the chair around Darcy sat and watched the doctor lift and prod, poke and listen, as before, accompanied by various noises and rhetorical questions to the patient. His final actions were to peer under the bandages, prising up the sides without dislodging them fully.

Once finished the doctor turned to him. "Well Mr Darcy, he is no worse than yesterday. On a more positive note, there is no sign of infection on either the head or leg wound."

"So will he recover?"

"That I cannot say. Ah, there is something that I can try." The doctor reached into his coat and pulled out a vinaigrette. "I have read that sometimes smelling salts can awaken an unconscious person, at worst it can not harm." He looked over, waiting for permission.

"Go right ahead doctor."

"Very well. Now I don't expect anything but here goes." The doctor waved the vinaigrette under Richards notice with a theatrical flourish, as if performing a miracle. Nothing. No change at all. Darcy was embarrassed to realise that he had been holding his breath, and let it out in a rush.

"Well I did say not to expect anything, but still, I am disappointed it didn't work. "

So was Darcy, but it was not yet time to grasp at the thinnest of straws. "Thank you doctor, for trying. Is there anything we can do?"

"I understand reading or talking to the patient has been known to draw them back into the living. But other than that and caring for his physical needs, there is little known to help."

"Thank you doctor for not sugar coating it or giving us false hope."

"I understand sir, that you are rational enough to get a fair assessment. I still think he will recover. He's young and healthy. The blow didn't break his skull, another thing to his advantage. However the waiting can be hard. Do you wish I stay and watch your cousin while you break your fast?"

"Not necessary Doctor. I have done so already." Darcy reached out and rang the bell pull. "I'll just get my sister in to watch him, while I show you out."

Darcy and the doctor talked of inconsequential things until Georgiana returned. Once she arrived Darcy told her, "I am showing the Doctor out and then I'll return to keep you company. Will you be alright?"

Georgiana nodded, so Darcy gestured to the door, "After you, Doctor Warren."

Darcy showed the doctor to the door and returned to Richard's room to find Georgiana sitting morosely watching her cousin. "I'm back. No change?"

"No Fitzwilliam. I feel so helpless."

"The Doctor said it could be a while before he wakes. Reading to him as you did before could help."

"I can do that!"

"Good. Let me know when you get tired. We can take turns."

"Certainly. Where was I last night. Oh, here, Sonnet 26…"

While Georgiana read Darcy continued with the accounts, until her voice grew raspy. Noticing this, Darcy took over reading, until Georgiana felt recovered enough to continue. She restarted from where she had left off, continuing for at least another hour. Darcy had ceased to work on the accounts, just enjoying sitting there, thinking not much of anything, while Georgiana's melodious voice washed over him. He suddenly realised that a good deal of time had passed, and Georgiana had stopped and was looking at him. Once she was aware she had his attention, she asked in a raspy voice, "Brother, is it too early to ask Lizzie to come?"

Darcy nodded. "How about I organise some refreshments and we'll discuss it later."

"Yes, but only if we will discuss it later, not if you are just fobbing me off."

Darcy was a little taken aback by his sister's impertinence, but thought silence was the best answer.

"So you were hoping I'd forget. But I won't. So let us have lunch, and the we will discuss it." She gave a cheeky grin and sat back to continue reading to Richard.

Darcy had no answer to that impertinence either, so got up to arrange for lunch to be bought to the sick room. As Darcy was doing this, her question regarding Elizabeth Smith meant he remembered what had been nagging at him. Given that they could be interrupted at any time, he felt he should wait until after they ate. Lunch was eaten in silence. There was nothing to say, and after reading for a lot of the morning, neither wanted to expend their voice in idle conversation. As soon as it was finished, while Darcy went to arrange the removal of their repast, Georgiana picked up the book of sonnets again.

Once the maid had left with the last remains of the mid day meal, Darcy interrupted her recitation by coming over and crouching beside her, and saying, ""Georgiana? Stop for a moment please."

Georgiana stopped reading and turned to face him, an expectant look on her face.

"Ah… Georgie, it is just that… Georgiana I must apologise for what I said just before you retired last night."

Georgiana looked blankly back at him. Right, I will need to explain further.

"I had been thinking about how I upset you last night. Well, actually I talked with Elizabeth Smith this morning and she explained why what I said upset you… I did not ever mean you to think you were to blame. I don't think that. No not at all." Georgiana looked like she was going to cry again, oh dear better say something more. The next came out in a bit of a rush, trying to stem his sister's tears. "I am so very sorry Georgie, very sorry. You were not to blame, it was just a horrid accident. If anyone is to blame, blame Wickham."

Georgiana tears were at full flood as she leant forward and clung to him.

There, Elizabeth, well you are not infallible after all, look what you caused this time. Best calm his sister down. "Please stop crying dearest, I am truly sorry, I didn't mean it that way. You were not to blame. I never thought it was your fault."

She sat back up and wiped her face. "Oh Fitzwilliam thank you. I was so worried you would think it was my fault as send me away. You don't blame me? Truly?"

"Of course not. I am sorry I left you thinking that."

"I did. I was being silly, wasn't I Fitzwilliam?" She sniffed back her tears.

"No dear, I didn't think before I spoke to you. I never meant it that way."

"I'm so glad. You are the best brother!" Georgiana was smiling now. "Thank you."

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why did my apology upset you?"

"I wasn't upset brother, it was tears of relief. I was so worried that you blamed me. But now I know you don't. So I won't get sent home. You let me stay? I can stay?"

Damn, Elizabeth Smith was right. Would she ever be wrong? "Of course you can stay. I will never send you away. I will need help with Richard. He has never been good at being confined to bed, so we will need to share keeping him amused."

"I can do that. Yes, I can do that. Lizzie will help. I know she will."

"Yes Georgiana, Elizabeth Smith can help. But probably not that often. Remember she has a young daughter to look after. She can not have much time to spare us."

"I understand Fitzwilliam. Can I send someone to invite her here now?"

"Georgiana, I know you want to see her. And I am sure another person to share the reading would be welcome for our voices. But, I doubt she slept at all last night. She will need her rest too."

Georgiana looked a little crestfallen. She stood, stretching. Darcy wandered back to his chair and sat. It was at that point Darcy noticed his sister suddenly grin, then look back at him. "But if she comes, even if I don't invite her, she can stay?"

What was Georgie up to? But if she came, he could not say no, but he hoped Georgiana wasn't expecting her, as he doubted she'd come given her all night vigil already. "Certainly. Mind you, she has to come here on her own volition, you cannot invite her."

"Sure. I can agree to that." Georgie was smiling broadly now. "See" She pointed out the window. Darcy stood alongside his sister and looked to where she was pointing. There, coming up the road was the lady in question. Darcy grinned down at his sister, who was looking at him expectantly. The both knew he'd been got the better of.

It was not long before she was shown up to the sick room. After the initial greetings, and letting her know there had been no change with the patient, Darcy took on the first round of reading to allow the two ladies to catch up. There seem to have a lot to talk about, which surprised Darcy, given they'd only been in each other's company earlier that morning. Georgiana seemed to do most of the talking, even with her tired voice, and he couldn't help but notice the more excitable portions involved a fair number of glances in his direction. Darcy made a point of being aloof to it all, and continued reading. When the murmurs from the corner seem to have slowed, if not stopped, Darcy turned and said, "Georgiana, maybe you could arrange tea for our guest."

"Oh I am sorry, Lizzie. I should have asked earlier. Do you want tea?"

"No problem dear, the sick room is no front parlour. But yes, tea would be lovely."

Darcy realised he felt a bit hungry as well. "Off you go then, Georgie. Maybe a few sandwiches or biscuits as well."

"Yes Fitzwilliam. Back soon." And with that she left.

She turned to him, "That was well done. What is it that you wanted to say without her here?"

Couldn't put one over her. Darcy had arranged it to talk to her privately. Georgie was too young to realise the 'proper' thing to do was to have the upstairs maid relay the request. "Well, firstly I would like to thank you for the advice this morning. It was as you said. Georgiana was not only thinking that I blamed her, but was worried I would send her away. We were able to talk about it, and as you can see she is much happier today, even with Richard's condition."

"I had noticed. I am glad you were able to reassure her. She needs your strength, particularly at this time. I was only too happy to help, as Georgiana has become quite dear to me, even in this short a period. She is a special person."

"I wonder how you get her so right, when as her brother she is becoming almost opaque to me."

"I was one of 5 sisters, Mr Darcy, so I have more than just my own experience growing up to draw on."

Five sisters? That's a start of unraveling the enigma of Elizabeth Smith. "Well whatever the cause I am grateful for your insight. Thank you."

"It is no problem. And the next thing you wish to discuss?"

Well, she obviously wanted to change the subject. He had noticed how she did not like to be praised too highly. "It is Richard. The Doctor tried to revive him this morning with smelling salts, but with no effect. I am becoming more concerned with each hour he remains unresponsive. Do you know of anything in your years of nursing others that could help?"

"I am sorry Mr Darcy, most of my patients have been children with fevers. I've got no words of advice to give." She looked quite apologetic at this point. Looking directly at him with a concerned expression she asked, "Did Doctor Warren say there was anything we could do?"

"He suggested talking or reading to him, as that has been known to help."

"Well that is something we can all do. I imagine you have been reading all morning?" When Darcy nodded, she continued, "That explains the husky voices you both have. I will relieve you of your duties. Here pass me your book."

Darcy had been reading Plutarch in Latin, which would not be suitable. He pointed to Georgiana's book of Shakespearean sonnets. "Georgiana's been reading him sonnets. I think she is up to 35 or 36, but maybe a few more."

"I doubt it matters too much if I repeat one or two." She went over and picked up Georgiana's book, opening it and sitting besides Richard she stated, "I might as well start now. Tell Georgiana I'll have my tea as usual." At that, she turned and started with sonnet 37…" As a decrepit father takes delight, To see his active child do deeds of youth…"

A bit later, Georgiana returned with several maids carrying the tea service and proceeded to do a very creditable performance as hostess. After drinking her tea Elizabeth Smith resumed reading, picking up where she left off. Georgiana sat relaxed, still drinking her tea, attentive on her cousin. Darcy felt as much contentment as possible under the circumstances, with this arrangement and turned to continue working his way through the accounts.

So it was while Elizabeth Smith was reading, that Georgiana noticed it first. "Brother! Lizzie! Please. Richard!" He voice was shrill, face pale, she looked like she was going to faint.

They all looked at Richard.

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><p>.<p>

**So what has caused Georgiana's reaction?**


	23. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 11

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 11**

There, Georgiana saw it happened again, Richard moved!

"…Oh yes, see, he moved again!" Georgiana was crying, but with joy this time. She stood with such a hurry that she dropped her teacup with a clatter. She was almost fizzing with excitement, and, as if in response to these sudden loud noises, Richard groaned.

Darcy was never so pleased to hear a groan in pain. He stood almost as quickly and moved as fast as possible to Richard's bed. His cousin was letting out low moans and squirming around. It seemed like he was uncomfortable in this position. Darcy stood there vacillating, should he move Richard to make him more comfortable or not, would be safe to move him or would it reopen his leg wound?

By the time Darcy reached Richard, Georgiana had pulled Elizabeth Smith up out of her chair. They danced, well Georgiana danced and Elizabeth followed. Georgiana then grabbed his hand and dragged him into her celebrations as well. This was all accompanied by girlish exclamations of glee. Georgiana hugged them both, her actions forcing him and Elizabeth to share the embrace. It was made worse by Georgiana pushing the two of them together and then stepping out completely.

Oh Lord, he was standing there in an embrace with Elizabeth! Darcy did not know what to do. He should push her away, but if he did that, would he appear rude, knowing that ladies are often sensitive about these things. While thinking through the options, the decision was taken from him as she pushed his arms apart and stepped back herself. Darcy felt a momentary disappointment, Elizabeth certainly fit within his arms as if she was designed to. Darcy at first thought he saw a look of disgust cross her face, but no, it couldn't be, far more likely chagrin or embarrassment, but either way she quickly schooled it in to a more neutral expression.

"Mr Darcy, are you going to get the doctor to attend?"

That broke his spell, "Oh… Yes of course, ma'am." Darcy rang the bell pull vigorously several times, then stepped into the hallway and called for a footman to get the doctor. Behind him he could hear Elizabeth's reasonable tones, calming his sister's excitement and allowing her to realise this is good news, but there is still a long way to go. He stood there, a slight smile on his lips, mulling over what just happened.

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><p>Doctor Warren had come and gone. He had tried to say that here again Elizabeth was a miracle worker, but she put a stop to that smartly, declaring it utter nonsense, then making him promise not to tell anyone about it, on pain of, something that was left unsaid. Darcy enjoyed seeing someone else on the receiving end of her ire, knowing all too well what it was like.<p>

The diagnosis was positive, Doctor Warren was convinced that Richard had regained consciousness for a moment, but the pain caused him to fall back into unconsciousness again, after Darcy described how he had brief moments of consciousness twice more prior to the doctor's arrival. The next time Richard came round, assisted by the doctor's vinaigrette, they were able to get him to drink a small amount of diluted red wine mixed with honey to mask the taste of laudanum. The opiate dulled the pain enough for Richard to stay conscious and so drink some more. Thus Richard stayed awake, and found out that Wickham was dead, the diary recovered and was told the extent of his own injuries. After reassuring Georgiana that he had many years left in teasing her, he finished the rest of the wine with a relieved sigh and then drifted off into a welcome sleep. Once he had fallen asleep, Doctor Warren advised that until the stitches came out or, at the very least, the first week, they should give Richard opiate whenever they could. This would allow him to sleep, as that was when the most healing occurred, and it meant he was less like to shift and tear the stitches.

Darcy had Georgiana escort the doctor out, to allow him time to discuss her with Elizabeth. They both agreed that it would be best if Georgiana did not spend large amounts of time in a sick room. Her emotional frailty from Wickham's actions would leave her vulnerable to despair and guilt when the inevitable lows occurred during Richard's long period of recovery. It was agreed that Elizabeth would visit often, which would allow Georgiana to practice being a hostess. At other times, Elizabeth would escort her out and about, as her friend companion, with or without her daughter, depending on the circumstances.

Elizabeth offered to help with looking after Richard, half-heartedly Darcy tried to refuse, saying the maids could assist him, but she insisted, saying she would ask Georgiana who she would prefer to nurse her cousin, herself or some maid, so Darcy conceded. The woman didn't play fair, but Darcy admitted (but only to himself) that he was glad she had won that battle. Darcy then thought that for any of her nursing visits, Elizabeth could bring Amy Jane and ask Georgiana to play with her daughter downstairs while Elizabeth was busy with nursing Richard. In this way, even with Richard long convalesce, Georgiana's life would have some semblance of normality.

When Georgiana returned, Darcy suggested that maybe Georgiana would enjoy the rest of the afternoon more if she visited Elizabeth Smith's place as Richard was asleep, he didn't need anyone to read to him. Playing with Amy Jane would be a better way of passing the time than sitting waiting for Richard to wake. Georgiana was reluctant at first, but when Elizabeth also made the request, Georgiana was quick to accept. Darcy reassured her he would stay here working on the accounts, and still be here when she returned. He was certain Richard would still be asleep by then, and if he did wake, he'd send someone to inform her immediately.

After the ladies departed, Darcy continued with the accounts. The occasional creak from the bed as Richard moved in his sleep was very reassuring. While not finished, Darcy discovered a large number of bills were still outstanding, even though he had given explicit instructions that accounts were to be paid as soon they were incurred. Darcy took time out from determining the full extent of Mrs Younge, or should that be Wickham's, depredations of Georgiana's allowance, to compile a list of the various trademen he will have to visit, and the amounts he thought he owed, to ensure none were forgotten. He'd have to get on to it tomorrow. He realised that while he went about Ramsgate, he may just discover a few more clues to Elizabeth's story.

Sitting back and relaxing, for what felt like the first time for a week, Darcy thought of what else he had to do tomorrow and the days after. Sergeant O'Connor would be arriving in London either very late tonight or early tomorrow, so his instructions could only be fulfilled tomorrow. The carriage will take a full day and a half, so he wouldn't see what he had sent for or the extra staff until the day after tomorrow. Probably about the time his redirected correspondence should arrive. The Earl would know by now, or if not very soon. The Earl hopefully would inform all the others on his list tonight. Thinking about that Darcy interrupted his musings to write a quick note to the Earl, updating him on Richard's progress, and had it sent by express as well. Well, there was little else he could do about things London. Steele and Mrs Taylor would handle his instructions in exemplary fashion, and O'Connor would know exactly what to pack for his officer, that he had not doubt.

What about here in Ramsgate? He would have to visit the magistrate regarding Mrs Younge. While what she did was despicable, he was certain that the plan was Wickham's, she was more a pawn than co-conspirator, and thus did not warrant the ultimate sanction. Local magistrates were often reasonable people, and thus Darcy thought he could convince him to commute her sentence to deportation. Thankfully the local magistrate would not have the pressure, common in London courts, to ensure there was the spectacle hanging a relatively young and attractive woman would generate.

He'd also need to find out where Wickham's body had been taken. For all his recent actions, he still deserved to be buried alongside his parents in the church in Lambton. If he sent a letter of instruction to Dawson, the rector, he'd see that he was buried properly. There were enough people there that remembered the boy, in spite of what the man had done. Well Wickham, you will be, until the end of time, just next to the church that my father had hoped would be your living. Darcy reflected on the wasteland that Wickham's life had become. Had old Mr Wickham lived longer to give more guidance, had Mrs Wickham been less extravagant herself, and taught her son prudence not dissipation, how different could it have been? Darcy also wondered what he could have done. He felt guilty that he did not try harder to convince his father that Wickham was not what he portrayed. Could that have helped? Try as he might to reason with himself that Wickham made his choices from his own free will, Darcy could not help feeling responsible for everything that happened. He gave a wry laugh, here he was telling Georgiana she was not to blame, but felt every much to blame himself, and he was sure his sister did so also.

As previously, thoughts of his childhood friend, bought up memories of the others he had lost. This time, Richard's improvement did not cause the overwhelming feeling of loss it had before. The grief, while still painful and strong, time had caused the wounds to his heart to callus, and these scars were now so much a part of his character as his honesty or sobriety. After a while of quiet contemplation, Darcy turned back to the desk to finalise the accounts.

* * *

><p>Georgiana came back from Elizabeth's full of chatter about her precocious daughter. By then Darcy had finished the accounts, and was reading quietly, keeping Richard company. He was happy to hear all about the funny things Amy Jane had said while being taught her letters. That gave Darcy the chance to embarrass his sister with some of the things he remembered about her at the same age. He then followed up with a few of the things he remembered being told about what he or Richard had said at that age as well. This was all done in a stage whisper, trying to keep their voices down, so as not to wake Richard, although a couple of loud laughs had them looking at each other guiltily. But Richard slept through all of it, without a murmur.<p>

They stayed talking past the end of that subject and a few more. Darcy was extremely happy with how relaxed Georgiana was with him at the moment. Something that he realised had not been the case for many months, going back to soon after Mrs Younge started as her companion.

When Richard had not woken by the time dinner was ready, Darcy asked a maid to stay and watch him, while they went to downstairs to the dining room. Someone, probably Elizabeth, had considered their situation, so dinner was just the one remove. Even so, and less variation in dishes than what should normally be served during one course, the menu was well thought out and Darcy did not feel short-changed, He left the table to return to Richard's sick bed quite satisfied.

Richard woke partway through the evening. He was able to sip most of a bowl of chicken broth, but only able to maintain the most cursory discourse, and needed more laudanum to deal with the pain. He fell asleep soon after taking it. Georgiana was disappointed, having wanted to talk with Richard. Once the maid arrived for the night, Darcy ushered Georgiana out of the room. Seeing her disappointment, he explained that the blissful respite of sleep was what Richard needed right now. There would be many days in which Richard would be confined to bed in which she could talk with him to her heart's content, and for as long as she wanted, Richard would not be able to leave. Georgiana seemed satisfied with this and retired for the evening looking happy.

* * *

><p>The next day Darcy spent the morning with Richard, although he was asleep for most of it, so Darcy managed to finish another volume of Plutarch, and made a note to get the next one. Darcy heard Elizabeth arrive to spend a bit of time with Georgiana. Although she did pop her head in to see how Richard was, once reassured he was doing as well as expected, the two ladies went back downstairs, he didn't see them at all as they went out soon after Elizabeth arrived.<p>

It was just before lunch that Richard woke. The pain, he said, had dropped to the point where he was able to think, even if it was exhausting. Darcy dismissed his offered thanks, telling him to think nothing of it. As soon as Richard was awake, Darcy arranged for some chicken broth to be brought up. Richard was well enough to eat it himself, although a little awkwardly, with his left hand. After the soup, Darcy convinced Richard to take more laudanum, and he drifted off to sleep again. Picking up the next volume, Darcy continued his vigil until Georgiana returned.

* * *

><p>Leaving Georgiana with the sleeping Richard, Darcy left the house after partaking a little midday refreshment himsef. Darcy started by going through the list of tradesmen that Mrs Younge had not paid as she ought. A number appeared surprised to see Mr Darcy paying his bills in person, but Darcy made a point of knowing who he owed money to in Derbyshire or London and he saw no need to change his habits here. Everyone knew of the events surrounding Wickham's death. Once identified as the gentleman that faced down the villain, his standing, which had not been great as an outsider, was considerably improved. Where possible Darcy tried to correct the rumours. But, apart from quashing the most outlandish, he definitely did not challenge Wickham to a duel, he had to swear to one local, he was not able convince many that he was just downplaying his role from natural modesty.<p>

A few also seemed to know that Elizabeth Smith was assisting with the nursing. With those Darcy delayed to talk a little. To his frustration, although fulsome with their praise of her they provided nothing solid, not even further clues. The chandler, Mr Clooney, called her 'an angel sent from God, appearing in Ramsgate to perform miracles'. This was almost papist talk, Darcy wondered whether he should consider taking his custom elsewhere. About the only thing he did discover was that Mrs Carter was Elizabeth's great aunt. Now, if he remembered rightly, Mrs Carter was the wife of the old Rector, and they had only the one daughter who had married and left the area. Darcy made a note to add a request for more information on Mrs Carter's daughter to the letter he would write to the Rector.

As he left the butcher, he saw Lieutenant Bedford and several other militia officers across the street. The lieutenant saw him at about the same time and, after taking leave of the others, quickly approached Darcy.

"Mr Darcy." Doffing his hat.

"Lieutenant Bedford." Darcy lifted his hat in return.

"How is Colonel Fitzwilliam? Last I heard there was some concern as he had not woken yet."

"I can put your mind at rest, my cousin woke late yesterday afternoon. He is doing as well as a man in his situation can be."

"I am greatly relieved to hear that, and I know my fellow officers will be as well. Is he up for visitors yet?"

"I would give it a few days. He still spends the most of the day asleep and probably will do for a few days longer. I will send a note once he is up for visitors."

"Thank you Mr Darcy. Can you let him know we are all concerned for him."

"Certainly lieutenant. A question for you, where would I go to arrange the transport of Mr Wickham's body to Derbyshire?"

The lieutenant showed some surprise at this question, and it took a moment for him to reply. "I assume his body would still be with the magistrate. I am sure he will have decided Mr Wickham's death was caused during the commission of a criminal act and be preparing to bury it in the paupers gravesite just out of town."

"Thank you for that. I have just thought of another thing. Could you tell me who fired the fatal shot?"

"So you can thank them? Well, I am sorry. It was a soldier not an officer, but whom I cannot say. I think the men are covering for the man, from fear of the consequences, given the injury to such a high ranking officer."

"I am disappointed you do not know, but understandable. Well Lieutenant, I'd best be off to the magistrate's. Where can he be found?"

* * *

><p>Darcy thought it was fortunate that the local magistrate had a residence in Ramsgate itself. Introducing himself to the elderly Lord Roskill, Darcy quickly got down to business. Gaining permission to return Wickham's body to his home county was easy, although Lord Roskill did express his disbelief that Darcy would go to all that expense for a man that had so badly wronged him, particularly as the county was prepared to front up the cost of disposing of the body. It would not be cheap to do so, but nothing that Darcy could not afford, since his considerable income was far greater than his comparatively modest expenditure.<p>

The fate of Mrs Younge proved a far more difficult situation to resolve. Darcy was surprised at how reluctant Lord Roskill was to allow for any other sentence than hanging. Darcy had heard of 'hanging judges' but always thought it to be an exaggeration, but here was one, in the flesh as it was. Lord Roskill argued, at time passionately, about the only good criminal was a dead one. The difference in view quickly became a debate, and as there was someone's life at stake, Darcy entered into it with as much skill his many years of debate at university provided. After a good deal of time, even after Lord Roskill conceded that Darcy had a number of valid points, he was not willing to change how he would determine Mrs Younge's sentence once she was declared guilty by a jury.

Knowing that this could be his final gamble, Darcy considered if he would be prepared to allow his bluff to be called. In the end his conscience required it.

"Lord Roskill, I understand your position, but as the aggrieved party, I ask once again, will you agree to a capital sentence commuted to permanent deportation?"

"Of course not young man, have you not listened to a word I have said?"

"In that case, my lord, I have no option to withdraw my accusation of theft."

"You what!"

"The items were not stolen. I have decided to retrospectively gift them to her. All I need is you to sign the release and I will go and retrieve her."

"You cannot be serious. She stole from you. She sat like a viper in the bosom of your household, in league with that madman, whose body you are sending north. No, you cannot be serious."

"I am deadly serious, my Lord. There is a young woman's life at stake, and I am not prepared to have her death on my hands, if there is a chance of redemption. Her mistake was to trust and be led by Wickham. I cannot countenance her death on a mistake."

"This is highly unusual. You realise I can have the militia officers testify against her."

"Yet I know that no officers went into Mr Wickham's room. It was his room where the missing items were found, he was known to have access to the house where the items were taken from, need I go on?"

"No, on this you win. I have seldom been bested, and certainly not by someone who was the aggrieved party. I concede in this case, and only this case, she will get a sentence of permanent deportation, when the guilty verdict is announced. Against my better judgment, young man. Against my better judgement. Off with you."

"Thank you, my Lord."

* * *

><p>During Darcy's absence Elizabeth and Amy Jane visited Georgiana, but had left prior to his return. Richard had spent the day sleeping on and off, but after having his first solid meal since being shot, was now feeling a lot better and was sitting more upright and wanted to talk. While Georgiana was in the room, the conversation was on more general subjects, but Richard made it clear that he wanted to talk to Darcy privately once she had retired.<p>

Darcy returned from escorting Georgiana to her room for the night.

"Thank you Emily, I will ring when you are needed." Darcy said to the maid. He then waited until she had left and closed the door. "So Richard, what is it?"

"Tell me Darcy, what did the doctor say?"

"He said that your head wound will leave a scar, but unless your vision or hearing is still affected, there should be no permanent damage. So is it?"

"No Darcy. Apart from the slight throbbing from the wound, both eyes and ears are working fine."

"That is good news. He also said you were lucky in that your wrist was a clean break and there should be no impairment there."

"That is good, but you've avoided saying anything about my leg, so what is it?"

"Actually, the doctor was more worried about your head than your leg. I don't know why, you use your leg a lot more often." Darcy was glad to see Richard laugh at his rather lame joke, and continued, "I was told the pistol ball did a lot of muscle damage but didn't break the bone. You should be up and walking on it again, possibly even before Christmas."

"What about a limp?"

"Doctor Warren spent about 5 minutes talking around the subject, but it is my opinion that he doesn't know."

"Doesn't matter. I can put the limp down to a war wound, and so look very distinguished with a gold headed cane. These wounds can only enhance my chances of snaring a wealthy heiress. What lady wouldn't want a limping hero, second son of an Earl no less, to enhance their standing. Although I best start looking soon. Once we beat Boney there'll be any number of colonel's, even general's on the market, many more handsome than I."

"Don't down play your hand Richard. You are handsome enough to tempt any lady. And you have good connections, that counts for a lot."

"But will it count to fifty thousand?"

"Your price has dropped since last time you mentioned it."

"True, but I have had to factor in a disability discount. Another thing that Wickham owes, we'll never get back."

"Speaking of Wickham, I've arranged to send his body to Lambton for burial."

"What! Why? I'd throw the piece of shite in the nearest unmarked grave."

"I understand how you must feel, but I cannot separate the childhood friend from the man he became. It is the boy I am burying not the man."

"Well I'd not be so charitable, but your sense of honour does you proud. Speaking of that, I see you have overcome your scruples as far as a certain attractive lady is concerned." Richard, annoyingly, raised his eyebrows with that statement. What on earth was he implying regarding Elizabeth? Yes, she was attractive, but it was for her caring nature and intelligent insight to his sister that he let her visit. But knowing Richard would interpret anything he said the about the lady the wrong way, Darcy chose a different tact, "Georgiana needs her since Mrs Younge left. I will admit you were right in trusting her."

"What, the great Darcy admitting he is fallible? It was almost worth the wounds to hear that!"

"Don't talk nonsense. I admit to being wrong, if I am."

"So when was the last time before this one? Hmm?"

"I apologised to Georgiana just yesterday. It took Elizabeth to point out how badly I had dealt with her. But this terrible situation has had a silver lining, if Georgiana's growing maturity is the result."

"I was amused hearing Georgiana verging on impertinence tonight. I take it that this can only be down to Miss Smith's influence?"

"Elizabeth. The locals call her Elizabeth or Elizabeth Smith. Or just "ma'am". They are quite inventive in their addresses to her, she has generated a great deal of loyalty from her neighbours."

"I don't doubt it, she seems a singular woman. Obviously one of the few that were able to see through Wickham. Most don't. Anyway, the world is a better place now he's dead. I, for one am glad the shooter made a good job of it."

"But it was murder."

"Murder! Rubbish, it was justice."

"I have to disagree with you Richard. I hope whoever did it does not have it weighing on their conscience. I have attempted to find who it was, but Lieutenant Bedford says he doesn't know who it was, and the other soldiers are covering for him in case he is in trouble due to your injury."

"I very much doubt that Darcy. They are probably worried about me. But in any case they were following orders."

"Thank you for pointing that out, I had not considered they could be following orders, but in that case, the officer is to blame. I will go back to the Militia tomorrow and get to the bottom of this."

"I doubt you will Darcy."

"I will insist. That Wickham's final act so badly injured you will give me moral authority."

"Don't Darcy. Just, don't."

"Can't you see Richard. I have to. Wickham was murdered. And in killing him, they just about killed you too." Darcy noticed Richard was looking quite conflicted. He wondered why, but though he was likely to find out. As always, Darcy waited. It didn't take long.

"Darcy, promise me, when I tell what I am about to, there will be no consequences, none at all to the soldier, as I know they were just following orders."

"Of course Richard. With one qualification, that you do not require the same consideration for the officer that gave the order."

"That I can agree to. Remember absolutely no consequences."

"Yes. I agree. Now, tell me what you know.

"Sergeant O'Connor shot Wickham." What? Darcy could not believe it. That meant... No.

"Acting under my orders. Darcy. I ordered him to do it. So God must agree with you." Richard gestured with his left hand at his various injuries. "Poetic justice."

Darcy was stunned. He was prepared for not knowing, even for knowing and making the culprit contribute to the cost of Richard's treatment and Wickham's burial. But now...

"So now you know Darcy, now you know." He paused, then continued, "War changes you Darcy. Often in ways you don't realise until it confronts you. I can't feel bad about Wickham, truly I can't. I don't consider killing as murder any longer. You can't and survive the war. I've shot men just because they wear the wrong uniform. I've even shot a few of my own that could not survive their wounds, as an act of mercy. It's times like this I wonder whether any of us will be fit to return to society when it is all over. I understand your view Darcy, I do. But the niceties of English justice no longer have the hold on me as they does you. You are the better for it Darcy. Don't loose it. Don't loose it."

Darcy felt very awkward. This was more insight into his cousin's experience on the peninsula in a mere moment, than he had gotten from hours of talking previously. He wanted to say something, do something, but this was completely outside his experience. The thought, 'maybe Elizabeth could help' flittered into his mind, but was quickly dismissed.

"Richard, I know it sounds trite, but I have not been there, I cannot understand what you have been through. I cannot blame you for what happened."

Richard smiled back. "Thank you Darcy. Thank you." He looked drawn, and appeared in considerable pain. Darcy lifted the bottle of laudanum and raised his eyebrows. Richard nodded. Darcy measured a slightly stronger dose, which Richard took. Darcy sat alongside, his hand resting on Richard's shoulder, deep in thought while his cousin drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**For those that thought it would be good news about Richard. Well done. For those that didn't, I hope you are happier I didn't kill off one of the 'good guys'.**


	24. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 12

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 12**

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had a busy morning while shopping at the local market. There had been a lot of talk about the shooting, and Elizabeth was questioned extensively as she was known to be assisting the family care for the injured man. To their frustration, Elizabeth did not know much more than they did, or where the questions became personal, she chose not to mention anything as it was not her place to say. At times she found some of the heroics assigned to 'that dark handsome gentleman, Mr Darcy', to more than a little farfetched, but without knowing what actually went on, she could only partly refute the wildest of the rumours. For example, Elizabeth was certain a duel had not taken place, but when pressed, could not actually deny it. It seemed to her, his supposed heroics had overcome the usual reserve the locals had for outsiders, most of the tradesmen seemed to be very quick to sing his praises. Well, they'll not be so happy call him, 'their Mr Darcy' when he leaves town leaving the usual swath of uncollectable bills behind!<p>

Elizabeth could not help overhearing the salacious gossip about Georgiana's companion. It appeared that Mrs Younge had been arrested coming out of the dead man's room completely naked, draped only in a sheet that had been lost in the scuffle. Added to this information were additional crude comments about wanting to be the arresting officer or a desire to search her for hidden contraband, actually made in her presence. Elizabeth had become used to the fact that, although generally treated as a gentlewoman, her situation meant that men did not automatically moderate their language when she was around, as they would have done she still been a gentlewoman in truth.

What was more worrying to Elizabeth was discovering that Mrs Younge was being held for theft of significant amount of jewellery and personal items, estimated to have been at least twenty pounds, if not fifty. While local juries had thwarted Lord Roskill's "hang'em all" proclivities by undervaluing items so the value of what was stolen was less than 9 pence, which did not allow him to award a death sentence, there was a limit to what they could get away with without a mistrial being called. Knowing, as she did, what Mrs Younge had taken, there would be no way that the jury could do so in this case. Elizabeth was reasonably convinced that Mrs Younge, for what she had observed, was in love with Mr Wickham, and would likely have been the pawn of the unscrupulous 'gentleman'. Well, Elizabeth thought, fairly typical of gentlemen in general. Mr Darcy certainly thought little of herself, but was happy to use her services whenever it was convenient to him. She wondered if, given how useful he found her, she could use that to try to get him to drop the case. No, he probably wouldn't, and by reinforcing his poor opinion of her would then leave Georgiana without someone in the Darcy household to look out for her.

Elizabeth returned home from Saturday's market with a full basket, actually it was embarrassingly so. Elizabeth was sure that a number of tradesmen had tucked extras into their packages once the items had been weighed. But it was something Elizabeth had grown used to, and had given up trying to stop. It was always worse when she was assisting her the sick or ill, almost as if it was a deliberate policy or plan by the tradesmen of Ramsgate. She had thought, given the patient's obviously wealth this sort of nonsense would not happen this time. The Ramsgate tradesmen should have assumed that she was being paid for her services, even though she had no intention of asking anything for it. Her uncle's investments on her behalf was always more than enough for her and Amy Jane's needs, particularly since Mrs Carter asked for nothing, was forever spoiling Amy Jane, and refused anything Elizabeth offered towards her and her daughter's upkeep.

Delivering the basket to Mrs Carter, Elizabeth ruffled Amy Jane's hair. "Here you are Mrs Carter. Amy Jane, go and get your shoes."

Amy Jane skipped off with a, "Yes, mummy."

"Mrs Carter, we will be going off to see Miss Darcy, and check how Colonel Fitzwilliam is doing. We should be there all morning."

"Go dear, make yourself indispensable with the family."

"You know that's not why I do it. Colonel Fitzwilliam has a long road to recovery, and Miss Darcy needs someone in the household that is on her side."

"What ever you say dear. Still, play your cards right and there could be a better future for you and Amy Jane. Wedding banns are not entirely beyond you yet."

"How can you say that? Neither gentlemen would consider me"

"I suppose you'll have no luck with Mr Darcy, if he's anything like his father he'll be too proud and rather too conceited to consider it, but a military man has to be more practical. You are attractive enough to make that Colonel yours, if you'd just try. And he'd appreciate a wife with a practical bent when on campaign. It would be no worse than living here, a Colonel's wife lives far more comfortably than most officer's wives."

"Get away with you. Marriage is the last thing on my mind."

"Don't I know it. But it shouldn't be… I know, I know, we've had this out before, so I'll say no more. Well, off with you."

"Goodbye Mrs Carter."

"Goodbye Elizabeth. Oh, I'll be out all day at Mrs Frenleigh's, so you'll have to fix your own luncheon."

"That's fine, enjoy your day." Exiting the kitchen Elizabeth yelled upstairs, "Amy Jane, where are you?"

"Coming mummy." Elizabeth saw her daughter coming down the stairs at a run. She picked her up and spun her around, thinking how lucky she was to have such a wonderful daughter, as Amy Jane giggled with delight.

* * *

><p>After catching up with Georgiana, checking on the patient (sleeping), distracting Amy Jane with a few shortbread biscuits, Elizabeth continue to show Georgiana how plan the next few dinners based on what Mrs Pennywise had bought fresh today, combined with what was in the dairy, pantry and larder. Mrs Pennywise had to admit that she didn't know how to make a couple of their suggestions, so substitutes had to be found. After fixing today's, Sunday's and Monday's menu as well, the ladies took Amy Jane to the parlour, where she played with a doll Georgiana had bought for her a few weeks ago. With her daughter now busy, Elizabeth and Georgiana continued to go over the household accounts. Georgiana was full of questions as it appeared that Mrs Younge had showed her nothing, and kept her very much in the dark about home economics and the spending of her allowance.<p>

Part way through the morning, there was quite a commotion, as Sergeant O'Connor arrived, all dusty and travel worn. Without even bothering to refresh himself, he rushed upstairs. He came back down a few minutes later to hand Georgiana a couple of letters. Georgiana's face sparkled when she saw who the first letter was from, but then fell when she saw the address of the second.

"What is it Georgie?"

"It's my aunt."

"The Colonel's mother?"

"No she is in Scotland, her eldest daughter is going to have her first baby in a month or so."

"Congratulations."

"Yes, it's great isn't it. I'll be a cousin-aunty. Well, except for Richard's brother's children, but they aren't proper so I'm not supposed to know about them. We don't talk about them, because they shouldn't exist… Oh, sorry Lizzie. I don't mean Amy Jane shouldn't exist..." Georgiana looked flustered and quite embarrassed.

"Don't worry Georgie, I have come to terms with our situation a long time ago. Just remember that the children had nothing to do with the parent's sin."

"I am so sorry, Lizzie, do you forgive me."

"Of course Georgiana, there is nothing to forgive. Here, tell me why your other aunt makes you worry."

"I am sure Lady Catherine knows everything, she always does. And then she'll say that Fitzwilliam hasn't been looking after me properly and she'll make me have to live with her. And I'd just fade to nothing, just like cousin Anne if that happened, I just know it. She can't make me go, she can't." With this Georgiana burst into tears. Elizabeth realised the Mr Darcy would be needed, as he would know why his sister feared her aunt so much. So she rang the bell pull, then went to comfort her friend. Amy Jane also came and gave Georgiana a hug, but the young lady was terrified of her aunt's possible actions and extremely upset, without even knowing the content of the letter. When the maid arrived, Elizabeth left Georgiana briefly to ask the maid to get Mr Darcy then returned to her friend.

Mr Darcy arrived soon after, looking very concerned. When he came over, Elizabeth stepped back and said in a whisper, "See received a letter from Lady Catherine, and it has upset her just seeing it, she hasn't actually read it yet. I think it best you see what it is about." After informing Mr Darcy about the letter, Elizabeth went over to her daughter and loudly said, "Come Amy Jane, let's go see if we can get Mrs Pennywise to give you a glass of milk." Taking her hand, she gave the siblings some privacy.

* * *

><p>It was a while later that a maid came to say that Georgiana would like to see her in the parlour. Asking the maid to look after Amy Jane, Elizabeth returned to her friend. Mr Darcy was still there, with the sternest expression, Georgiana's head buried in his shoulder. He was clearly displeased, but Elizabeth wasn't sure if it was with her, Georgiana or the aunt. Thankfully he cleared this up quickly.<p>

"Thank you, ma'am for getting me so promptly. I must explain. Our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bough, is… is very forthright… yes, very direct, in her opinions. Unfortunately she expected to be named guardian of my sister when our father passed away. Thankfully my father did not have the same high opinion of his sister-in-law, that she holds of herself, and left both Richard and myself as Georgiana's co-guardians. It was during the reading of the will that she threatened to take Georgiana back to Rosings Park. Both Richard and I, backed by my father's lawyer, told her in no uncertain terms that that would not happen. She left in a huff, but not before threatening to take us to court to overturn the will at the first sign that Richard and I were unfit guardians."

"I see Mr Darcy."

"She has also written to Georgiana on occasion, asking for her to provide information that could help her make a case. As a result, I usually have any letters from her to Georgiana given to me to read first, and so Lady Catherine has ceased to write, or so I thought. However, it appears our Aunt is staying with Richard's father at the moment, and saw the opportunity to cause mischief, hoping that Richard's man did not know not to pass her letters direct to Georgiana. I have read it, and it is as I expected. But it is of no consequence. I have reassured Georgiana, that I will not ever consider sending her away."

"Thank you for explaining this to me, it does explain why Georgiana reacted the way she did." Placing a hand on Georgiana's shoulder, Elizabeth continued, "See Georgie, dear. Your brother would let your aunt take you away. I know he wouldn't. Here calm yourself. Read the other letter." Elizabeth picked up the other and handed to her. Georgiana looked up at her brother. He nodded at her, so she took the letter and sat down. Elizabeth sat close to her, while Mr Darcy went and stood looking out the window, his face an implacable mask. Elizabeth was glad not to be on his bad side, even if he didn't like her, she was glad not to be his enemy.

Tentatively, Georgiana opened the other letter. It was from her maternal grandmother, Elizabeth was told. She seemed quite a card, given how much enjoyment Georgiana had from reading what she had written. Once Georgiana seemed less fragile, Elizabeth nodded at Mr Darcy and he excused himself.

About midday there was more commotion, when the Darcy carriage arrived from London. Elizabeth and Georgiana watched as the footmen went back and forth unloading what seemed like an endless procession of chests and taking them upstairs. The most amusing thing she saw was a bed, with a hole in the middle of the mattress. Elizabeth had the difficult job of explaining that it was a bed for an invalid. Georgiana didn't get it, so Elizabeth explained the hole was for a chamber pot so the invalid did not have to be lifted onto a bed pan or moved to the chamber pot each time they, um, needed to, you know, needed to…

Elizabeth stayed the whole day, hoping that Georgiana would talk about her aunt and her fears, but she chose not to. It didn't matter, Elizabeth knew she would when she felt ready. The afternoon was spent sitting back and watching Georgie and Amy Jane play dolls together. Playing more like a child again seemed to restore Georgiana's equilibrium. Elizabeth left early that evening only after extracting a promise from Georgiana to take a little laudanum if she had any trouble sleeping.

* * *

><p>As today was Sunday, Mrs Carter, Elizabeth and Amy Jane attended the Ramsgate Anglican Church. Unfortunately, the Reverend of Ramsgate Parish was not the forgiving sort, and they had got used to sneaking in at the start of the service and leaving just before it ended. She was not surprised to see the Darcy's there, up the front where Rector Grenville was using the recent events to castigate the parishioners with the torments of hell waiting for all that were sinners, such as those envious of their betters. Elizabeth was certain Mr Darcy would be lapping this up, along with the other gentry in town, but this was fairly typical of the man's sermons and of his obsequious attitude towards those he thought were his betters and his condescension of those he thought his inferiors.<p>

It was after lunch when Elizabeth was able to visit Miss Darcy. This time she left Amy Jane with Mrs Carter, in case Georgiana wanted to talk. Unfortunately Georgiana had taken the sermon to heart, and Elizabeth spent considerable time reassuring her that she was not eternally damned, and that God did forgive all manner of sins. Elizabeth was not sure how much of this Georgiana agreed with, but was she able to talk more freely towards the end of it, so Elizabeth hoped the sermon had not caused her too much long term distress.

Richard awoke late that afternoon, so Elizabeth escorted Georgiana up to her cousin, with the intention of just saying hello and leaving. However when she got there, she noticed that the Colonel seemed flushed and his eyes appeared too bright, both being symptoms she had seen before at the start of an infectious fever. Leaving Georgiana to talk with her cousin, Elizabeth gestured to Mr Darcy to talk outside in the hall.

"Mr Darcy, I don't want to alarm you, but I fear that your cousin may be developing a fever."

"Are you sure, ma'am."

"No Mr Darcy, but I have seen a similar symptoms in other patients, and in most cases it developed into an infectious fever."

"That is very concerning. I shall summon the Doctor at once."

"In that case, I'll give my farewells to you sister and be going. If you need me, do not hesitate to call on me."

"Ma'am, can I ask you stay? Georgiana did was very shaken by this morning's sermon, and I think it best if she had a friend here if there is bad news."

"That would be no problem. Go get Doctor Warren, I'll stay here with Georgiana."

Elizabeth walked into the room. Knowing that it could be there, she was able to detect a very faint smell of corrupting flesh, even through the usual sick room smells. It was unlikely to be the wrist, and there seemed no sign of inflammation of the head wound, so the gunshot wound had to be the culprit. If true, this could prove to be very bad. Infections and infectious fevers were often fatal. Even if it wasn't, the Colonel could easily loose the leg, and amputations were risky operations on those not also sick with a fever. Elizabeth sat at the back of the room, trying to keep a non-concerned look on her face, in case either the Colonel or Georgiana looked her way.

Mr Darcy came back and, trying to sound casual, said, "Richard, sorry, but I forgot to say Doctor Warren asked to come and see you when you awoke. Elizabeth reminded me, so I have sent for him now. Do you mind?"

"No Darcy, not at all. I am a bit thirsty, any chance of a drink?" Elizabeth watched as Mr Darcy gave cousin his drink, seemingly unaffected by his possible condition. The soon expected arrival of the doctor ended Georgiana and her cousin's conversation, so they all sat around looking awkward. Georgiana appeared to pick up something unusual was going on, and looked more and more anxious. Richard seemed already in the fever's grip and laid back against his pillows looking weary and flushed. Elizabeth was certain she was not being that successful in hiding her concern, certainly if Georgiana's reaction was anything to go by. Mr Darcy on the other hand, sat there unperturbed, apparently unaffected by the possibility his cousin had a serious infection. She wondered what had happened to harden his heart this much, to cause him to show so little emotion.

* * *

><p>Darcy sat there stunned. Everything had been going so well. The swelling around Richard's head wound had gone, just leaving the fading purpleyellow bruising. He was awake and lucid for considerable periods, certainly enough to dictate several letters that Darcy had written out for him, including a particularly long one to Richard's superiors in the Horse Guards. It all seemed going so well, that when Richard sent O'Connor off with the letters, they both thought nothing of giving him a few days off, to recover from all the travelling he had done over the last few days. Steele and Mrs Taylor had fulfilled his instructions in exemplary fashion, the invalid's bed in particular was exactly what was needed, which meant they both thought they would not need the Sergeant to move Richard about. Darcy decided he must send an express asking O'Connor to return as soon as possible, but had no real idea where to address it, nor what information to give Steele to assist his butler in finding him.

And then in a day, that insensitive Reverend's sermon upsetting Georgiana, particularly annoying because Darcy knew the Reverend had crafted that sermon specifically to impress him, and then this. Once pointed out the possibility of infection, Darcy could smell it faintly as well, confirming Elizabeth's fears were well founded. He felt he could deal with the worst, but Georgiana worried him, this morning showed how fragile she was emotionally, loosing Richard could prove itself to be one blow too many for his young sister.

The doctor confirmed their suspicions. When the bandage came off, the wound was an angry red colour, puffy and weeping slightly. Without the bandages covering it, the faint smell of putrefaction was unmistakeable. When the doctor lanced the wound, it erupted a considerable quantity of foul smelling sickly green pus. There was a loud gasp, and as he turned he saw Georgiana faint. Diving forward, Darcy was able to catch her before she fell to the ground. Darcy kicked himself, with everything else happening he had forgotten to have Georgiana leave the room in Elizabeth's care before the wound was exposed.

He excused himself to the doctor and carried his sister to her room, Elizabeth following. Once he laid her on her bed, Elizabeth said she'd take care of Georgiana, he would be needed with his cousin. Leaving Georgiana in her capable care, Darcy returned to the sick room. The doctor had cleaned up much of the wound and replaced the bandage with a herbal poultice. The previously confident doctor looked much less sure of himself now.

Doctor Warren explained, in his usual wordy manner, that he would visit daily to change the poultice and check on the patient. But it was his experience that these things had to run their course. If things got bad, there was every possibility that they would have to amputate. He hoped not to have to, as an amputation that high up a leg was always difficult, and could easily prove fatal without the complication of an infectious fever. He apologised for giving such bad news, but felt that it was best to prepare the family for the worst of the likely outcomes.

Darcy escorted the Doctor out. Looking in at his sister, he got a faintly reassuring smile from Elizabeth, even though Georgiana was still extremely upset. Darcy sat at his desk, to write yet another couple of express letters to London. The first would implore the Earl to come to Ramsgate, it was plain in his letter yesterday, that the bills he was trying to guide through the House of Lords were far more important than a son, particularly if he was just the 'spare'. However, it was not as if this was a surprise. Darcy wondered how any of his cousins came to be, given how disinterested the Earl seemed in any of them or his wife. But I suppose in his younger days he had not yet taken his seat in the Lords, and he would have wanted a heir and spare, which explained Sumerville and Richard, even Victoria, who sat between them, but it still did not explain Lady Sophie.

The real disappointment was that Richard's mother was in Scotland with Victoria, who was due to have her first child in about a month. There was no way of getting a message to her in time, as even if the Countess packed and left immediately she would arrive well after it was over one way or the other. Darcy decided it probably best not to send uncertain bad news, it would be better to wait until the outcome was known. Sumerville would probably come, but that was if he returned to London. Darcy doubted anyone knew where in England he was, or even which friends he was with, to be able inform him what was going on. Lady Sophie would come, probably with her latest protégé Miss Trent, but only after Richard recovers. He doubted she'd come to within a league of a sick room.

The second express would ask Steele to find O'Connor if he could as well as get Mrs Taylor to send several of her more experienced maids as nurses. That would be a big help but they would be several days away. So, for the first few days at least, it was up to him really. Darcy had become used to this, having become extremely self-sufficient as he grew older. There were times he realised how lonely an existence he lived, but he had become immured to it. It was almost as if this was his natural state.

* * *

><p>Richard's fever grew worse over night. Elizabeth had managed to get Georgiana to sleep, probably getting her to take laudanum, but however she did it he was grateful. As per the first night they shared the duty of caring for Richard. It was heartbreaking watching him deteriorate over a matter of just hours. By morning, Georgiana had worked herself into such a state of anxiety she had to be confined to bed. Most of the care for Richard was shared between him and Elizabeth, only assisted by some of the servants. Darcy was extremely annoyed that a couple had threatened to quit, such was their fear of infection, and he had to promise to give the rest extra compensation to help at all. Although they did not mind care for Georgiana, which was one load less.<p>

Darcy felt run ragged over the next few days. But what amazed him the most was the seemingly endless energy Elizabeth displayed. She shared the nursing duties with him, wetting Richard when the fever seemed to cause his skin to burn so hot it seemed on fire, then covering him with blankets when he shivered so hard the whole bed seemed to shake. She managed to get him to drink water, when Darcy could not. She even had no hesitation helping with the chamber pot, explaining after having a child, body excretions no longer had the same deterrent affect they used to have.

Even with this, Elizabeth must have also organised the household, ensuring it still ran smoothly, given all the disruption two sick people had caused. Meals, including broth suitable for both patients, were made and served on time. He even laughed silently at the irony, as she nagged at him to eat using the same reasoning she had with Georgiana all those days ago.

His admiration for Elizabeth grew as she worked tirelessly to help both of his relatives. Meanwhile Doctor Warren oversaw Richard's deterioration with slowly growing grimmer visage. He dismissed Georgiana's illness as female hysteria and proscribed laudanum until she was better. Elizabeth disagreed with the Doctor (surprise), and got Darcy to purchase a natural extract from the apothecary that she thought was far more efficacious than just dosing her with opiates. Georgiana spent a full day in bed before she was allowed downstairs, providing a most valuable function of looking after Amy Jane while her mother was nursing Richard. By day three Doctor Warren started warning Darcy that, given the infection was growing, amputation was becoming more likely, particularly as gangrene could well set in soon. While understanding this might be the only way of saving his cousin's life, Darcy preferred to wait until the need to amputate became more desperate.

There were times between the episodes of burning fever and shivering that the opiates they gave Richard took hold and he fell into a fitful sleep. It was at these times, if they both were there in the room that they talked. Darcy distinctly remembered the first time it happened. They had both collapsed into a chair after seeing Richard fall asleep. Darcy was happy to just sit in silence. After what must have been five minutes, Elizabeth turned to him and said, "Surely we cannot just sit here in silence. A little conversation will pass the time far faster."

Darcy remembered saying something like, "I suppose so, but I find I am not up to your usual level of wit, so it will have to be a very little conversation."

Her reply stuck in his mind, "Well I only expect a little conversation from gentlemen, so you won't disappoint." He then spent the rest of that period of respite from caring for Richard, and any of the others they shared trying to prove her wrong. As he recalled from the very first time they had met, they talked about a very wide range of subjects, all of which Elizabeth could discuss intelligently. While their exhausted state meant neither was at their top form, Elizabeth could still defend any difference of opinion with logic and a quick wit. Which she did with great regularity.

He realised she must enjoy being the devil's advocate as much as he did, when in the course of one afternoon, when Richard had a particularly blessed period of rest, they both changed position several times. Each arguing the opposite of what they had just defended a little while ago, seemingly to prolong the debate when their opponent appeared to run out of ideas to defend their current position.

His only concern was in a number of assumptions she made about his views or attitudes. She must think him very conservative and did not realise that he debated from a liberal position from personal conviction, not just because he was playing devil's advocate. But in the end, they swapped sides so often in many of the debates it was hard to remember just who had argued for what.

He had to admit, that by the third day, exhaustion meant their debates had degenerated to the point where any logic used was extremely flimsy. It had become just an excuse to talk or make the most outrageous puns. Anyone walking past must have though them a little crazy, here while Richard was so very sick, the pair of them laughing and carrying on like lunatics. Elizabeth had a sense of humour with the same black edge as his, and a love of the clever or absurd. But Darcy had enough wits left to realise had they been fresh he was certain the things they found hilarious at three in the morning probably were not half as funny if said in the clear light of day.

* * *

><p>Darcy felt an enormous sense of relief when the extra maids arrived from Darcy House on a hired stage. That they were not accompanied by anyone from the Fitzwilliam family did not surprise him in the least. With the extra help, particularly given all three maids were older and experienced with nursing, Darcy finally had a full night's sleep. Although not before suggesting, then telling, and finally, ordering Elizabeth to go home herself, before she also wore herself sick as well.<p>

Thursday dawned with no change to Richard's condition. The only positives were; he had not gotten worse overnight; he was still capable of sipping water and; there were no signs of gangrene yet, even if his thigh wound was still badly infected. While Richard had not fallen into unconsciousness, he was either doped on opiates or sufficiently delirious that he seemed oblivious to the pain or even the seriousness of his condition.

As Richard high fever continued yet another day, Darcy's felt real despair. Given his family's history he feared the worse. This time it was Elizabeth that was able to say the right things to keep the encroaching darkness at bay. With the clues he put together from the many hours of talking, he realised Elizabeth's situation was very similar to his own. Apart from one sister (like him), one friend from her home called Charlotte (her equivalent of Richard) and her Aunt and Uncle in London (he was an aunt up on her in this, if Lady Catherine was worth calling a relative), the rest of her family, which was apparently still alive, was as good as dead to her.

Maybe it was worse, knowing your family was still alive, but effectively dead to you. To read of them in letters from your sister or Charlotte and not be able to do anything or even write back. Add to that her fallen status, yet she did not seem to have succumbed to despair. Actually in her unassuming way she was bolstering him, while helping run his household, and look after her daughter as well. Darcy wondered if he could learn some of the serenity she seemed to have. It was almost there was this eureka moment. With perfect clarity Darcy now understood why the locals treated her with such respect. Elizabeth, just by who she was, how she approached life, deserved all of it and more. Unbidden came the thought, how he wished she was truly respectable, not just worthy of respect, as he could then make her his wife. Darcy knew this was not the time to be thinking of that, and in a cold logical decision, pushed any thoughts of his future from his mind.

During today's visit, Doctor Warren insisted that there was no longer a choice whether to amputate or not. However dangerous the operation was, this wound would in the end prove fatal on its own. But Darcy was equally insistent that he decision was his and, until Richard's wound actually developed gangrene, amputation would not be considered. The Doctor left, shaking his head, saying it would only be a matter of time and that Darcy best get Mr Cartwright here sooner than later. It was at this point that Darcy prayed for a miracle, as that seemed to be the only hope left.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

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**One question to my readers – the small bit at church with the Reverend Grenville – That part was how I originally conceived it. But during my first run through edit I thought it would be fun if this was actually Mr Collins instead. Thus the paragraph would have been:**

As today was Sunday, Mrs Carter, Elizabeth and Amy Jane attended the Ramsgate Anglican Church. Unfortunately, the Reverend of Ramsgate Parish was not the forgiving sort, and they had got used to sneaking in at the start of the service and leaving just before it ended. She was not surprised to see the Darcy's there, up the front where the young Reverend Collins was using the recent events to castigate the parishioners with the torments of hell waiting for all that were sinners, such as those envious of their betters. Elizabeth was certain Mr Darcy would be lapping this up, along with the other gentry in town, but this was fairly typical of the man's sermons and of his obsequious attitude towards those he thought were his betters and his condescension of those he thought his inferiors. Elizabeth hoped the rumours of his obtaining a Living in Kent and thus be leaving in autumn was true. She did wonder why any wealthy patron would give the living to this uncharitable, foolish, slightly slimy young man that had pretentions of gentry because, as he so often boasted, he was to inherit a valuable estate via a distant cousin. But Elizabeth was grateful to whom ever had the living to bestow was willing to put up with his particular variety of insincere grovelling flattery.

**So what do you readers think? I cut this as it was one coincidence too far, a little contrived****.**

**Would it be fun to have Mr Collins appear in this story; there could be a follow up as Mr Collins would make a pest of himself sucking up to the wealthy Mr Darcy in the guise of sick bed visits to Richard. Then while there being very uncharitable to Elizabeth, calling her a jezebel, a harlot, and forcing Mr Darcy to defend her and in the end have Darcy banning him from the house – Mr Collins then sliming off, foolishly trying to flatter Mr Darcy to redeem himself.**


	25. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 13

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 13**

**.**

**Just for everyone that have written reviews regarding Mr Collins. Having read all those for and those against, my completely arbitrary decision, which bears little relation to anyone's specific 'solution' is:**

**[drum roll please]**

**Stick with my original plot outline that has Mr Collins already in Hunsford, already under the tutelage of Lady Catherine.**

**However the overly judgmental Reverend Grenville might stick his oversized nose in the goings on in Darcy household, and might just get it bitten off.****..**

**.**

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was also very relieved at the arrival of a number of additional maids from the Darcy residence in London. While reluctant to go until the new maids knew what they were to do, Mr Darcy, in his usual arrogant manner, ordered her home, rather than allow her to stay to see them settle in. Oh well, if he going to be like that, she'll leave him to sort it out. While he did seem concerned about the affect of this on her health, Elizabeth had hoped he would have been a bit more gracious in his manner. But it was she had always expected from this gentlemen, and once again it was confirmed.<p>

Feeling refreshed from the first decent night's sleep, and given a break from sick room duties, Elizabeth was able to spend a bit of time with Amy Jane and Georgiana. Elizabeth heard, rather than saw Doctor Warren, but the way he stomped out muttering something, it sounded like he was not able to get Mr Darcy to agree with some course of treatment, possibly bleeding. The Doctor was a great advocate for it, something she never saw being much use. Then, when she distinctly heard the name "Mr Cartwright", Elizabeth blanched knowing that it was far more likely talk of amputation. Realising that she best not alarm Georgiana, Elizabeth put her previous thoughts out of her mind with the final thought, "It is now in God's hands and what will be will be", and returned to her conversation with Georgiana.

Elizabeth had become very close to this young woman. Georgiana was still tentative in her manner to others, the experience with Mr Wickham having reinforced this, but Elizabeth had hope to teach her to be more forthright in her opinions, something she thought she had some success with. Elizabeth smiled to herself, remembering one or two of the times Georgiana stood up for herself against her brother. The look of surprised on his face with her audacity was priceless.

Their current conversation would probably be considered by many an unsuitable topic for a young woman, but Elizabeth saw no reason not to let Georgiana discuss Greek philosophy. Sometimes Elizabeth had to translate on the fly when the example she wanted to show Georgiana could only be found in the original Greek. Elizabeth thought it unfortunate the Admiral's library was mostly for show, so had older works, usually in the original Greek and Latin, rather than her father's library, which swapped them for more assessable English translations. Georgiana found Greek completely incomprehensible, but her Italian allowed her to get the gist of Latin, even if Elizabeth had to help at times, starting to teach her to read it directly herself. Georgiana thought maybe she should not be learning read Latin, or she could be considered a bluestocking. Elizabeth rubbished the idea, chalking up Georgiana's attitude to another fault to assign her brother.

It helped that they shared a similar quickness of mind and a similar sense of humour, actually quite similar to Mr Darcy, but Elizabeth supposed that could only be expected, given they were siblings. With all his faults, Mr Darcy did appear to care of his sister in exemplary fashion, if possibly leaving a bit too much of her education to others, and, at times neglecting her a little. Although when explaining this Georgiana did excuse his behaviour by saying he apologised afterwards, usually because estate matters took too much of his time. Elizabeth thought of all the hours her father spent with her, on their mutual love of books and knowledge, it seemed that managing the Longbourn estate did not take that much time at all. Admittedly Pemberley sounded quite a bit bigger, but even then it couldn't take that much more time than her father had.

As Elizabeth had intended, the philosophical discussion on morality changed from the theoretical to more specific applications, such as justice and the application of the law. The debate was lively and, although not worldly wise or having a lot of experience, Georgiana was prepared to take a position and defend it as required, and did not just agree with everything Elizabeth said. While the Darcy's obviously lived a life of luxury, Elizabeth was pleased that at least this Darcy had a heart and was concerned about the lives of all those that depended on them.

By late afternoon, Amy Jane started getting crotchety, and Elizabeth took her home, for dinner and then to bed. She explained that once Amy Jane was in bed, she'd be going back to the Darcy's to continue to care for the Colonel. Elizabeth was prepared to defend her actions as only that of someone that could saw a need and was able to help. Although Mrs Carter raised her eyebrows and gave Elizabeth a pointed look, she said nothing. The conversation, while Elizabeth helped prepare the vegetables, was of more mundane things; Amy Jane's new pinafore already needed to be taken down, she was growing so fast, Mrs Frenleigh had a letter from her son in the Navy, Mrs Clooney had 3 eggs in a row with double yokes, and similar minutiae.

Elizabeth immersed herself back into this day-to-day activity, the sheer ordinariness and automatic nature of the activity restored her serenity. Even when Amy Jane pestered them to be allowed to help, as she always did, and had to be shooed away from the hot oven and boiling water, brought with it the realisation that life, its little repeating patterns, carried on. All the excitement and tragedy of the last few days were something extraordinary, even if it felt like they had been going on for weeks.

After making up another story where Amy Jane was a princess, this time rescued from a high tower by a very tall man with dark hair – that had become her favourite description of the inevitable rescuer – who fought off a dragon this time, Elizabeth tucked her daughter into bed and kissed her good night. The evening ritual concluded, Elizabeth left the house calm, with renewed energy to help get through another night caring for the Colonel.

* * *

><p>The talk over dinner was a bit stilted, Darcy realised that his general tiredness and worry over Richard made him a less than engaged conversationalist. He suspected the same for Georgiana as well. But he did make the attempt and asked how was her afternoon with Elizabeth? By all accounts she certainly sounded as she enjoyed it, mentioning how they talked all afternoon. But when asked about the topic could have engaged them all that time, Georgie looked down at her plate and mumbled something. Realising they must have talked about 'lady' things, Darcy let that topic drop, and asked how she was finding managing the dinner menus. The change of subject bought back her animation, and they had a fairly long conversation about the coming week's menus, even if it did become rather silly towards the end with each pretending to be different animals arguing about which of them would be the roast. Georgiana's imitation of a pig was particularly amusing.<p>

Darcy escorted Georgiana to bed after dinner. He was very concerned about her, while she kept saying nothing was wrong, and was quite animated at dinner, it was obvious to him that she was taking Richard's situation badly. He remembered how devastated Georgie had been when Father died, and how it was Richard who had been able to comfort her, when he could not. His own grief and the suddenly acquired responsibilities left him ill-prepared the last time she faced death and struggled to cope with grief. Darcy vowed, this time he would be there for her. Even if it meant having to deal with the workload of Pemberley early in the morning or late at night, caring for Richard showed him it could be done were there was enough desire to do so.

When Darcy arrived at the sickroom, Elizabeth was tidying up after finishing feeding Richard broth. One of the Darcy maids, Darcy thought it was Sally, had collected a few of the books and was just heading out the door when Darcy reached across and grabbed the book he was still reading off the pile. With an apology, Sally disappeared downstairs with the rest of them. As he moved over to Richard, Elizabeth looked up and smiled. Darcy as sat, she excused herself to go to Georgiana.

Darcy sat near Richard. He was awake, if barely so. Darcy asked how he was but all he got in reply was a brief mumble before he lay back and closed his eyes. Taking the hint, Darcy opened the third volume of Plutarch and started reading out loud, something he and Elizabeth had found helped him get to sleep, and this time was no exception. Darcy carried on for at least another chapter, before giving his voice a rest. Putting his book down, Darcy looked over at the door, hoping that Elizabeth would finish talking with his sister soon. Thinking of her, Darcy wondered about the meaning of that small smile just before she left. Could he have been a little too open in his regard for Elizabeth? That would not do as it could raise her expectations for something that Darcy had no intention of fulfilling, even if he had, for a brief moment considered marriage. But no, of course not, the idea has ridiculous. Just thinking of it brought to mind all the reasons why it was preposterous. Happy that his rational mind had resolved the issue, he was sitting back in the chair feeling to contentment you get from making the correct decision, when the lady in question walked in.

Without knowing quite why, Darcy felt like he was five again and had been caught filching biscuits, so flushed with embarrassment, he stood on her entrance. Oh dear, he hoped she had not seen it, as it could reinforce an unrealistic expectation on her part. Suddenly awkward, Darcy stood uncertain whether to sit again, move or what. Thankfully Elizabeth went over and sat off to one side, so he sat back down again, this time in an easy chair by the desk that gave a clear view of Richard, and Elizabeth too. Pretending to read, he continued to glance her way, while endeavouring to demonstrate how detached and unaffected by her presence he was. At that point Darcy resolved to act a little less forward, to fall back on his usual reserve to make it clear their relationship was platonic and would always remain that way. Putting the book down, he watched as slowly, and with a number of muttered exclamations and unpicked stitches, Elizabeth added a strip of fabric onto the bottom of a child's dress.

* * *

><p>Darcy woke to the sound of Elizabeth's reading in low tones. Glancing around, the candles suggested he had dozed off for at least an hour, maybe as much as two. He looked over her as he flushed with embarrassment (again, what was with that?) to see her close the book she was reading.<p>

"Sorry, must have dozed off. How is he?"

"He is still sleeping, if fitfully at times. Sorry to wake you. I was just reading to calm him."

"It's no problem. I should be awake anyway. What are you reading?"

"Oh it's just the book I assume you had been reading to him earlier." But, Darcy thought I was reading Plutarch in the traditional Latin. No it must be another. Rather than reply, Darcy looked around and tried to think what other book she could be reading, but could not think what it could be. The was a way to find out, "Pray continue, don't let me interrupt you."

"Oh, sure where was I?" Darcy watched as she skimmed her eyes down the page before starting again.

"Well, here goes. '_Non opus est cum amico mutationes mutationes qui cùm nutus nutus. Nunc umbram esse melius facit'._" Elizabeth let out a soft laugh and looked his way.

Wow, Darcy thought, her reading Plutarch in Latin was somewhat unexpected. Maybe she thought it was best to use a different language would help calm Richard. Still praise where it is due. "Your pronunciation is very good, although a little Italian in accent."

"I suppose I had far more practice in Italian. Not much call to read Latin is there?"

"No unless you manage to disguise yourself and sneak into a Cambridge classics lecture."

"I hadn't thought of doing that, maybe Georgiana could look after Amy Jane while you take me." This last statement was accompanied by a cheeky grin. Damn, thought Darcy here I go raising her expectations again. Still best to quash them politely, "I'm sorry, ma'am, my university days are over."

"Pity, it would have been fun. Still, that quote from Cicero made me laugh."

Hmm, she even knew it was Cicero, must recognise his name in the text. "How so?"

"Oh, it reminds me of Georgie and my friendship, a loose translation is '_I don't need a friend who changes only when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better'._ Particularly reminds me of the conversation on Greek philosophy we had this afternoon. Oh, dear don't be upset at Georgiana, she was worried you'd not approve, so just pretend I haven't told you, please."

Darcy sat there stunned. It was very clear that not only could read Latin, she was understood it and could translate it in her head. Something Darcy found he was also able to do, but most of his fellow students needed to write down each part before being able to come up with a grammatically correct translation into English.

She continued, "You don't mind do you? I didn't mean to get Georgie into trouble. I stuck with the most classic of the Greek philosophers. You'd be proud how well she defended her views."

Distractedly Darcy replied, "No, no. Don't mind. Not at all." While processing the information that Elizabeth and Georgiana had both had a discussion about philosophy – that was why his sister had been shy at dinner – but Georgiana had entered into a debate with someone as good as Elizabeth. He was only half aware of what she said next.

"Pity about the Admiral's library, mostly for show, so most is older books in the original Greek. My Greek is like my Latin, rather rusty. I suspect some of my translations must not have been that understandable. My father's library was much more up to date, with decent English translations for most of the books that are here only in the Greek." As soon as she mentioned her father, Darcy paid particular attention, as she continued, "Pity really. I remember when I was fourteen Father went down to London to get the Collected Works of Plato, translated by Stewart. While this one is more famous, I think Haggard's translation is better, capturing the cadence, the poetry of the original Greek in ways Steward didn't, however more exacting in wording. Still, I made him promise to be back the same day. So he left on the stage first thing. Oh, the wait... the day seemed like a whole week, but he was back before nightfall… We spent the whole evening until the wee small hours reading and arguing whether this was a better translation… We did that often, reading and debating until much too late…" Elizabeth sniffed, tears glinting in the candlelight. Gathering herself up, she seemed to put her memories behind her and Started reading again, "_Non opus est cum…_"

While not happy that, however inadvertent, the topic had upset Elizabeth, Darcy wanted to rejoice, and it took all of his self control not to do so visibly. Yes! A real clue to Elizabeth's story. She lived only half a day's trip by stage to London, that narrowed it down a great deal, and did she say 'down to London' which suggests somewhere north of London, as opposed to south, which would be 'up', as a direction to her father's estate. And it had to be an estate to have such a library and to afford a first edition Stewart. Actually he always thought the Stewart was the better translation, but her comment made him think about reading Socrates in the Greek, and he hadn't noticed, but yes, what he could remember, voicing it out silently in his head, did have a particular poetry to it, like Shakespearian blank verse, though not iambic pentameter, it was still poetic in nature. He had a great deal to think about, and sat back to work through it, while Elizabeth's gentle voice washed over him.

* * *

><p>The cheek of the man, making her bring up all those memories that she had tried to leave behind. Probably enjoyed upsetting me. Probably punishing me for getting Georgiana interested in non-ladylike activities. But Georgiana had a fine mind, and it would be a tragedy it she was taught to hide it, as most high-born women were. Elizabeth supposed her education was a little unusual for a lady, but, laughing, it didn't matter, she was not lady (apparently).<p>

Mr Darcy stayed awake for the next few hours while she read to the Colonel, obviously deep in thought. Although he must be glancing at her from time to time, as he looked away every time she looked in his direction. Probably waiting for the horns or other physical signs of how unnatural she was. Well, she won't give him the satisfaction.

The rest of the night's vigil was shared between the two of them, with the Darcy household maids coming in and out, emptying the chamber pot, changing the water for fresh cool water to cool him as required. While it could be considered an improvement, Elizabeth feared his lassitude to be a bad sign. She'd seen this before, it usually meant the invalid no longer had the strength to fight the infection, and this was the very start of the final stage. She debated with herself if to tell Mr Darcy, but in the end, as she did not know for sure that whether it really was the point of hopelessness she decided to stay silent.

The morning saw no change in his condition. He was able to stay awake long enough to eat most of bowl of beef broth, but fell asleep almost immediately afterwards. He now appeared so immured to the pain, he longer asked for Laudanum. Elizabeth felt for Mr Darcy, he had appeared to be debating with himself, probably whether to get Mr Cartwright in to perform the amputation.

It was still early in the morning, before even Elizabeth had spoke with Georgiana when there was a loud commotion downstairs followed by the sound of booted feet running closer. The door burst open and in rushed a frantic looking Sergeant O'Connor.

"Where is he? Tell me I'm not too late."

Mr Darcy was a bit more awake than she was as he answered first. "He's still here, but only just. But, no, you are not too late."

"T'ank da blessed Mary and all da saints. The butchers haven't lopped it off yet have they? Oh, sorry ma'am."

Elizabeth reassured him, "No offence taken. No, they haven't amputated his leg yet."

"That's great, as soon as I heard I rushed here." He pulled out a jar from his pocket. "I got 'ere in time. This should mean he'll keep 'is leg."

Elizabeth was highly suspicious, the Sergeant probably had been sold nostrum in a jar by a quack, no doubt at exorbitant rates. As she stood to move closer, she was aware that Mr Darcy had done the same and was standing just behind her. O'Connor turned back towards them both, while lifting the sheets from the Colonel. "Youse might find this a bit disturbin'. I t'ink you no' want to look."

Mr Darcy replied over her shoulder, "No Sergeant, we'll stay. If you don't mind?"

Elizabeth watched as O'Connor cut and lifted off the bandages to expose the leg wound. The stench of putrefaction was strong, the wound looked an angry red and swollen, disturbing fluids were leaking out from around the stitches. Elizabeth hadn't actually seen anything like this before and felt nauseous. Looking behind her, she saw Mr Darcy also looking green but also determined, so she decided to stay as well, so as not to give Mr Darcy the satisfaction of seeing her having to leave.

O'Connor blanched, "Oh the blessed virgin, I've come jus' in time." He put the jar down and got out a folding knife. "Actually, sir, can youse 'old 'is legs? And ma'am, best you go to 'is shoulders an' 'old 'im there also."

Elizabeth went to obey him, watching with equal parts horror and fascination as the Sergeant, ensuring they were in place, sliced through the stitches and then pushed each side of the wound, forcing the corruption out of the Colonel's leg. Elizabeth gagged, and heard Mr Darcy do the same, but both concentrated on holding the Colonel from thrashing around.

O'Connor grabbed one of the sheets and wiped up the fluids that had come out of the wound and then dropped it on the floor. Picking up his jar, and taking off the lid, her poured the contents out into the wound, with a, ""Right, my beauties, 'ere ya go."

Elizabeth watched as O'Connor poured what seemed like hundreds of maggots out of the jar. She was about to question what was going on when Mr Darcy beat her to it. "Here man, what are you doing!"

"A trick we learn from the Spanish guerrilla's when there aint no medicine. I seen it work several times. The secret is to get the little wigglers to eat all the corrupt flesh and ill humours which is poisoning 'im, and whip 'em out before they damage the good flesh."

Elizabeth had never heard of this treatment, ""Are you sure?"

"Else it's lop 'is leg off, and he'd not live through that."

"I would have to agree with you. Well Mr Darcy, I certainly willing to give this a try, no other option gives the Colonel anything other than the faintest chance."

"All right, I concur. How long Sergeant? When do we whip them out?"

"Leave 'em today. I'll pull 'em out mid afternoon." Looking down, he adjusted the sheets so they tented over the Colonel's leg.

"Fine, we'll wait." Turning to her, Mr Darcy said, "Ma'am, are you happy in keeping Georgiana out of the room today? I feel the absence of the bandages has made the air in here barely palatable."

Elizabeth felt that this time Mr Darcy was correct, this was no place for her friend. So she nodded her head, and left. The rest of the morning was spent with Georgiana as usual, although Elizabeth was a little distracted the whole morning with worry. She did hope that her concern was not too apparent, trying not to cause Georgiana to worry.

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><p>When she returned just after midday to deliver the lunch, Mr Darcy was relaxed, reading and O'Connor was fussing about the Colonel. The Colonel was sleeping peacefully and seemed to be breathing much more vigorously. He also seemed a little better, the harsh flush of fever appeared have eased. Looking at Mr Darcy, he said nothing but gave her a reassuring smile and waved her away. Getting the hint, she backed off and closed the door, leaving the broth on the table in the hall in case they needed it.<p>

Elizabeth went downstairs, said goodbye to Georgiana and returned home. After lunch, Elizabeth and Amy Jane returned to the Darcy's. In defiance to the brother, Elizabeth continued the philosophical discussions as Georgiana had requested it. Getting out what she could find in the library, Elizabeth commenced to introduce her to more recent philosophers. The afternoon passed quickly, an odd combination of Aquinas, Hobbes, Descartes and Hume with periods of teaching Amy Jane letters or playing with her dolls.

Late afternoon, Elizabeth excused herself to take another bowl of broth to the patient. She knocked on the door. Mr Darcy opened it and gestured her inside. The Colonel was still asleep, but as O'Connor saw her arrive he gave him a shake. The Colonel woke and looked over and gave her a weak smile. In a firm, if still weak voice, the Colonel said, "Ah sustenance."

Elizabeth nearly fainted with relief.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Note: If anyone is fluent in Latin, can you let me know if the Google translate converted the Cicero quote from English to Latin correctly. **


	26. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 14

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 14**

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><p>For Elizabeth the next few days had a quite different feel to most of last week. The depressive air which had enveloped the Darcy household had lifted. While the Colonel was still in danger, the infectious fever had subsided. Mr Cartwright had visited again, and with much tut-tutting and muttering, stitched the Colonel's leg wound back up again. Doctor Warren, while disagreeing completely with the method, had to admit that however unorthodox it had performed the miracle necessary to enable him to keep his leg. Elizabeth thought the Doctor's concern was that it was not his treatment that had effected the cure, and he was worried of losing a most lucrative patient. It must have been to his great relief that Mr Darcy kept him on, even after his demonstration of not being at all useful, particularly compared to a mere Sergeant.<p>

Once the Colonel's fever had broken, and was on the road to recovery, Elizabeth's time was spent ensuring his comfort and giving him something to occupy his time, during the time he was not asleep. Although the Sergeant and the Darcy household servants were on hand to meet his more personal needs, her duties (and Mr Darcy's also) were still vital, keeping him amused during the periods he was awake. While he was very weak, this and the laudanum he took for the pain, meant he slept a great deal of the time, he was still awake for three of four hours at a stretch. Elizabeth knew how much damage a twitchy bored patient can do by not sitting still and allowing their wounds time to heal.

Elizabeth had hoped that Georgiana would be able to help with occupying the Colonel's time awake but her first visit was a borderline disaster. Seeing how gaunt her cousin had become during four nights of fever, Georgiana's sense of guilt played out in full force. Georgie's brief visit upset her so much it took Elizabeth several hours to calm her down. Elizabeth feared she might need to give Georgie a dose of laudanum, but thankfully the young lady was able to regain some composure, and could be convinced to take an afternoon nap. While she slept Elizabeth and Mr Darcy talked it over and agreed to allow Georgiana short visits, but only if she was accompanied by one of them. Her main responsibility was to continue to mind Amy Jane when Elizabeth took time occupying the Colonel.

During the times the Colonel was awake, Elizabeth discovered he was as broadly educated as his cousin. She enjoyed the times spent talking with Mr Darcy and him both, arguing a particular point on this or that, or just talking with him during the times when Mr Darcy had dinner or sat at his desk as 'he had other things to attend to'. At times the talk between Elizabeth and the Colonel was mildly flirtatious, and if Mr Darcy was in the room he never joined in. And when it did happen, good lord how Mr Darcy glared. Probably reinforcing my 'fallen' status thought Elizabeth. But it was all done in good fun. Mr Darcy just needed to loosen his stiff neck.

Actually he glared a lot when the Colonel and her just talked, even when they were not flirting, as if he was angry that he was being left out. But he only had to join in, it was not like they were stopping him. Elizabeth initially asked him direct questions to include him as well, but after a number of monosyllabic answers or the more frequent comment that 'he had important business to attend to' she gave up. She could not believe he had so much estate business, so she could only conclude that it must be that he didn't want to be contaminated by her presence.

Still, Mr Darcy's disapproval did not signify, the more he glared, the more she wanted to stay so she ensured his disapproval did not stop her tongue. At times, Mrs Carter's comments came to mind. When Elizabeth thought about it, she remembered how the Colonel had defended her against the odious Mr Darcy from the very start. The Colonel had a certain charm, and there were things far worse than being a soldier's wife. But, no, she was certain, from a similar flirtatious manner with the maids (that's gentlemen for you), she meant little or nothing to him, it was just his manner of speaking.

Confirmation of his lack of attachment for her came during the third evening, even as Elizabeth also learnt something interesting. It was during a time that Mr Darcy had left to go downstairs for dinner, that Elizabeth, feeling cheeky so, as a devil's advocate, started a discussion on the way that the poor are often become complicit in their own poverty, by siding with the wealthy landlords that keep them in that condition. She was concluding with, "But the poor are denied things, by their very poverty, the wealthy take for granted. Their very lives depend, particularly in times of hardship, on the same land owners that cause their poverty yet, can't you see this does not liberate them but makes them more dependent of the land owner's favour. But there is no way you, as part of the wealthy classes, could ever understand this."

Seeing that he was about to answer Elizabeth held up her hand, "No, let me finish, you were about to say that being in the army you are dependent on those above you for orders and promotion, but you cannot say that as a Colonel you are not part of the privileged few. How many, other than sons of the very wealthy have the means to purchase promotions as far as a colonelcy?" Elizabeth sat back, feeling somewhat smug that she had countered his argument before he had even uttered it.

"That is as maybe, I can still sympathise," he said, "As a younger son, not the heir, my choice of career is the Army or the Church, in either I must be inured to self-denial and dependence. The entire estate is, as is usual, entailed on my older brother."

"In my opinion, the younger sons of the wealthy can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?"

"Perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like."

"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do."

"Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many with my level of connections who can afford to marry without some attention to money. My father, for one, would not countenance it, as it would reflect on his own consequence. Earl's sons, even younger sons are expected to maintain a certain standard to not embarrass their family."

This, thought Elizabeth, meant for me. Given the occasional flirtatious nature of their conversation, she was sure he was letting her know that a mild diversion was all that was on offer. And that, Elizabeth, would never accept. She coloured at the very idea of it; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, "And pray, what is the usual price of younger son of an Earl? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds."

"That is a remarkably accurate assessment. I had only just quoted that figure to Darcy several days ago. I had wanted more in the past, but though it best accept this lesser amount as I am now damaged goods." He was smiling while pointing to the rather visible scar on his temple.

"So your original figure was higher than fifty thousand?"

"To be sure, but the exact figure was more my father's than mine, but I cannot disagree with his assessment of what is prudent. The connection would be a coup for the daughter of some nabob's or cit, so my father would sell my hand dearly only to those willing to pay a premium, as it is the ancient House of Matlock, no less."

"Earl of Matlock?" Elizabeth thought he said Matlock, no it can't be. She felt the blood draining to her feet.

"Yes, that's my father. He is the Earl of Matlock."

Oh good lord, while hoping that there were several branches of the family, Elizabeth had to know. "And your brother... Is your brother, Viscount Sumerville?" she said in a shaky voice. As much as she'd tried to hide her reaction, he must have picked up on it.

"Ah, heard of my illustrious sibling, eh?" That statement was dripping with sarcasm, "So, Sumerville's reputation has reached as far as Ramsgate, I am impressed, or should it be appalled, I never know which. I sometimes think it would be better to deny being related to him. Still blood is thicker than water, eh?"

This revelation tested Elizabeth's resolve to care for the Colonel until he was fully recovered. Oh the fickle nature of fate, here she was caring for the brother of Amy Jane's father, the man that ruined her. She sat back in her chair, having no force left. If she had not been sitting, she was certain she would have given the game away, by fainting. She was sure she must look ashen faced and distraught. Steeling herself, to try to appear more normal, Elizabeth though it best to deflect his attention elsewhere.

"Oh yes, you know how the servants from London like to gossip." That should suffice, thought Elizabeth, surely the Viscount's reputation would be known to all of London.

"I'm sure that is true. But to reassure you, I must say I am nothing like him. Nothing like him at all!" He obviously realised that this was not a suitable discussion and changed the subject. Elizabeth found it difficult to pay attention, but Colonel Fitzwilliam related a long rambling story that thankfully did not require much more that the occasional 'ah' or 'hmm'.

Elizabeth thought it was telling that the Colonel did not include Mr Darcy in his reassurance of being of a different nature to his brother, could there be a reason for this? Was this as much a broad hint as the Colonel's awareness of his 'marriage price' and her own poverty? There was a lot to think about, so Elizabeth left as soon as Mr Darcy returned rather that stay and talk as she had in the past.

On the way home, Elizabeth wondered how she was going to cope with this connection to the hated Viscount. She thought of talking with Mrs Carter, but she had not shared the manner of her disgrace, and dreaded having to. No, she thought, this is something that she had to deal with herself, although how she wished to have her dearest Jane or even Charlotte to talk to.

* * *

><p>As Darcy entered the room, Elizabeth looked up, excused herself and left without saying a thing. Darcy looked at Richard, for an explanation, hoping the disappointment he felt was not too obvious.<p>

"Sorry Darcy, I think that's my fault." Gesturing to the door as Elizabeth was heard going down stairs.

"What did you say to upset her?"

"I don't honestly know Darcy, but it could be for what you had warned me about."

"Which was?"

"If you must know, I think you were right, she obviously took our flirtatious language more to heart than I thought she would. I let her know that I could only marry where there was money, just in case she was thinking along those lines."

"Wise. I can only suppose she thought maybe then you would make a different offer."

"So it would seem, certainly she became quite reserved once she knew I was related to Sumerville."

"I hope she hasn't had a run in with him, as a woman in her situation, he would consider her fair game, and he can be quite persistent, knowing he has the protection of his title. But I would not have thought he would have come here. It's rather too quiet for his tastes." Darcy remarked.

"No, he doesn't appear to have visited. She must be used to his type though, given her situation. Apparently she heard about him from gossip from a few London maids. You and I both know that is his usual prey."

"Well that is only the ones we are likely to know about. I've found places for those I know of he's got with child. I wonder how many maids or other women we don't know of, that end up like Elizabeth, abandoned by their family. Eking out whatever living they can, as we both know Sumerville would not assist with even a farthing."

"True, my brother is like all his friends, they care nothing for those they ruin, and the egg each other on to worse deeds. Take Wickham, he was not like that until he left our company for theirs."

"True."

There was little to say to that, both sat contemplating Wickham, and other things for a while in silence before Richard broke it, "Darcy, I suppose you're not thinking what I am?"

"Thinking about Wickham?"

"No, I'm thinking about Elizabeth's daughter."

"What about Amy Jane?"

"Was just wondering who the father could be. Do you think her reaction to learning of my brother was because the father was a peer like Sumerville?"

Darcy had not given it much thought. But now that Richard raised it, he guessed, "I doubt it. Her father owns an estate about half a day north-ish of London. She seems too young to have gone to London for a season, so the young girl's father is more likely a local. No, she'd have married him. Ah… No. Um… My best guess is a visitor to the neighbourhood, young romance taken too far… No that wouldn't work, he'd still have been made to marry her. No... No, I don't know."

"Me neither. My best guess is… Actually, no I can't think of anything that… Of course, how about this… She had a secret betrothal to a young man. He's about to go off to war so they anticipate their vows. He's killed before he can return, but she's with child. In her grief she refuses all other suitors, so her parents disown her. Finds refuge with a distant relative that needs a companion."

Darcy felt a little uneasy thinking about Elizabeth's lost love, and though he should end this speculation. "Well, that's pure speculation. I doubt we will find out, and it is highly unlikely she'll tell us."

"It's certainly not likely to come up in casual conversation, even given how free ranging some of them have been. Speaking of that, you've not been joining in as often, is something wrong? Trouble at Pemberley? London?"

Darcy did not know how to articulate that his growing feelings for Elizabeth made him feel, when she was around, like a tongue-tied youngster, just like his days at Cambridge. Oh, the other lads often acclaimed his stoic calm and unperturbed demeanour around woman, little realising that in most cases his seemingly unaffected rationality was due to not knowing what to do or say than any deliberate decision on his part. Darcy had never shared this failure of his with anyone, even Richard. Although Darcy suspected that Richard possibly understood a him little, as he never pushed Darcy, as the others did. Particularly Wickham. Darcy supposed it was then that they really fell out, for the last time.

After a long silence Richard, probably realising he'd not get an answer, changed the subject, "So how is the harvest looking this year…"

* * *

><p>For Elizabeth, the ability to sleep deserted her. The thought, 'he was Viscount Sumerville's brother', and 'she had helped save the Viscount's brother', churned over and over in her mind. What was she to do? Could she even go back to the Darcy house? But there was Georgiana. Yet her friend was also closely related to… him. And by extension, to Amy Jane.<p>

Tears coursed down her cheeks, Elizabeth's body shook with silent sobs. Words long forgotten, words tucked into the deepest recesses of her memory came back, the most cruel of them haunted her _"That was a most pleasurable way to be allowed to buy your horse"_. And here she was helping a gentleman that could only be thinking the same way. Giving up sleep for now, she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and went downstairs.

Elizabeth stood, in her night gown and shawl, staring out the front window, in just the spot she knew allowed her to see the Channel. The visual repetition of the waves had the hypnotic effect she had hoped, as over the best part of an hour it calmed her. In now a more rational frame of mind Elizabeth realised that Richard, now there was no chance of marriage, she could think of him as Richard, was nothing like his brother. From the very start of their acquaintance he had been only a true gentleman, defending her against Mr Darcy accusations and slights. His language was flirtatious and at times colourful, but far more respectful than any of the other soldiers or militia in Ramsgate.

She had always wanted Amy Jane, and to a lesser degree, herself to be judged for whom they were, not by something she had done now a long time in the past, and in many ways, here in Ramsgate, her wish had been granted. Yet she was considering rejecting Richard completely due entirely to the sins of his brother, nothing of his own actions. This must be God's lesson for her. Judge a person on their merits, by their actions, not by some erroneous judgement you have made about them, or the actions of others, even a close relative. Feeling much better in herself, Elizabeth returned to bed, and with her serenity restored, fell asleep quickly.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed quickly, Elizabeth spending as much time as before at the Darcy residence and, although the first day felt a little awkward, she soon fell back into the usual routines. Elizabeth noticed that Mr Darcy previous open and engaging nature during Richard's fever more and more often reverted to a taciturn manner, going as far as not even participating in the conversation, where in the past he would often initiate it. So while she talked to Richard, keeping him company, Mr Darcy either absented himself from the room, spent time writing at the desk that had been taken up to the sick room or sat on the other side of the room, out of direct line of sight, reading. It was the last that was the most disconcerting, as Elizabeth could feel his stare fixed on her, which obviously must be a glare of disapproval. And he did it a lot, if the slow progress with the book he was now reading with glacial slowness was anything to go by. To counter this, Elizabeth chose to be livelier, wittier than she had previously been, to vex him. If he were going to find fault, she'd give him something to work with. Elizabeth smiled to herself. It certainly seemed to work, the amount of glares increased and the open book became a mere pretence, as the pages were never turned.<p>

So the days went on, Mr Darcy absented himself less and less often from the sick room, when Elizabeth was there, even when Georgiana bought Amy Jane up with her. Discussion between Elizabeth and Mr Darcy at one time when Richard was asleep concluding that his appearance was healthy enough and his recovery was assured enough to allow his sister to attend the sick room without needing to be accompanied. As the routine caring for Richard was set, and his wounds continued to heal, Elizabeth only worry now was the absence of a letter from Jane, particularly since she had written a second letter in the meantime.

Thankfully it was the following Wednesday, about a week after Richard fever abated that a letter from Jane arrived. Elizabeth could not put her finger on it, but it was not as she expected. Jane's letter contained less news and was shorter than usual, which suggested that Jane was busy, and Elizabeth thought that was due to her sister's social life improving. But, most puzzling, there was no mention of Mr Bingley. Well, maybe he was out of town, which was why Jane now had the time to write, which could explain the previous absence of a letter from Jane. But it wasn't as cheerful as a letter from her sister usually was, but that could easily be the result of her suitor's departure from London. On the same post Elizabeth got a much fuller letter from Charlotte, full of little happenings from Meryton, although the changes of 5 years meant it was more and more difficult to imagine what life in her home town was like now. The next time the Richard was asleep, Elizabeth was able to write replies to both, as Mr Darcy made some feeble excuse not hot have to share the sick room that she obviously contaminated.

* * *

><p>It was a little over two weeks from the day that Richard was shot, that Elizabeth heard a coach approach the house. She stood and walked to the window.<p>

"Richard, it looks like you might be getting your first visitors. A pair of coaches are making their way up the road towards us."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty certain, it looks like one of the outriders is pointing out the house. Could it be your father? I'm certain it's Matlock crest on the coach, as it is as you've described it."

"How many outriders can you see, Elizabeth?"

"Just two. Why, does that matter?"

"It won't be the Earl, there is no way he'd travel without four, usually more, so that everyone will know the consequence of who had just passed by. The crest is not enough you see."

"Oh, well they'll be here soon. That will be very nice for you."

"Yes I suppose. I suppose it's one of my siblings. Either Sumerville or Sophie will be a welcome diversion while I am stuck here in bed. Still, I hope it is Sophie, as my brother can be a bit of a trial at the best of times. He'd be more of a pain than..."

Elizabeth had not thought about it, but of course Richard's brother might visit. Oh Lord. She felt dizzy and weak, turning away from Richard, so he could not see her reaction she interjected.

"I am terribly sorry, Colonel, but I have just remembered that Mrs Carter had asked me to do... get something for dinner. Sorry, I must be off. Sorry." Without waiting for his reaction Elizabeth almost ran from the room. She hurried to collect Amy Jane, making equally implausible excuses to Georgiana, and left out the back door as the visitors were heard arriving at the front. Cursing herself as a coward, Elizabeth could not stop herself from trembling as she carried a protesting Amy Jane home.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**I suspect that postings will be further apart that usual given that it is now the holiday season and Christmas is just around the corner.**


	27. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 15

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 15**

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**For all those that have waiting so patiently to discover who was in the coach, you are about to find out…**

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><p>Darcy stood up quickly from his chair in the library when he heard the commotion outside. Looking out through the doorway, he saw a flutter of muslin skirts, lace petticoats and a perfectly shaped ankle disappear towards the rear of the house. That brief glimpse caused his heart to skip a beat, before he even registered that it was Elizabeth, almost running, in an unladylike manner. Intending to investigate what had caused this unseemly behaviour, Darcy was prevented from this by the footman on the front door calling for him, as visitors were arriving. Somewhat vexed by this interruption, Darcy headed for the front door instead.<p>

"Oh Darcy, what a quaint little place." Were the very first words that Darcy was greeted with as Richard's sister walked in. "And of course, you already know Miss Trent." Lady Sophie stepped aside to allow her friend to enter.

"Welcome to Ramsgate. Lady Sophie. Miss Trent." Darcy bowed stiffly, as the two ladies curtsied, Miss Trent tittered. Oh good Lord, Darcy could feel the headache starting already.

"Don't mind us, Darcy, we've only come to give comfort to dearest Richard. You'll hardly know we are here." Lady Sophie said as she ushered Miss Trent to the front, just a little too close to him.

Darcy took one step back. "It is no problem. I am sure Georgiana will be very pleased to see you both." Darcy hoped Georgiana would forgive him for that. Unfortunately, Darcy had forgotten how the briefest mention of his sister bought raptures from Miss Trent.

"Yes, Mr Darcy, how is your delightful sister? I just dote on her. She is the most accomplished young girl…"

Darcy felt it best to move them on, so interrupted, "Well, you need not ask me, she can be found in the parlour. I am sure you'd be most a welcome interruption to her afternoon." He gestured in that direction.

"But you will join us, won't you cousin." Darcy could see his cousin was not going to let him get away from spending time with Miss Trent that easily.

"Sadly, no. I have both Richard's care to monitor as well as seeing to your arrangements. So is it just the two of you? Will you be staying long?"

"Oh yes, just us. Mummy is up in Scotland with Vicky, father is being so very important in the Lords and no one knows where Sumers is. We can only spare a fortnight. You don't know how many invitations I had to turn down to come here. And Miss Trent is much sort after. She's even got Lord de Closse as one of her many suitors." Miss Trent was just like a performing monkey, thought Darcy, as the mention of her most illustrious suitor caused her to blush sweetly and flutter her eyelids at him.

"Congratulations Miss Trent. I am sure you will be very happy together." As long as she didn't mind being married to a man that looked like he had already died, with nothing but a title going for him.

Sophie tapped Darcy's arm with her fan. "You're so silly. Miss Trent isn't going to marry him. She has much better prospects than a penniless Lord. I hope to see her as family one day." Not if I can help it, thought Darcy. He reminded himself to ensure his door was locked each night. Oh, and to collect any spare keys from the housekeeper.

"Well, you've come to the right place for that." Darcy saw Sophie's and Miss Trent's eyes widen with glee with that statement. Turning to look directly at Miss Trent, he continued, "This is your best opportunity. He's stuck in bed and can't get away."

"Who?" said Miss Trent, not getting it, but that was no surprise.

"Darcy!" Sophie exclaimed, hitting him again! "Not Richard! He's got about as much money as Lord de Closse and no title."

"Oh. I thought you knew your older brother better than that, to consider him for someone you say is a friend, but each to their own." Darcy pretended to be obtuse, to see if he could get Lady Sophie to outright state she intended him to marry her friend. Sophie had been dangling Miss Trent in front of him for nearly two years. You would have thought she'd have got the hint by now. But then again women were irrational creatures; Aunt Catherine still thought he would marry Anne, however many blunt hints he made that, that would not happen. Elizabeth was one of the few women that he knew that could carry her side of a rational conversation, certainly the only one that was unmarried that knew he was also unwed and had ten thousand a year.

"Oh Darcy!" Again with the fan! Blast it. Darcy stepped back further, out of easy reach, as Sophie continued. "You are such a card. Come, let's go entertain Georgie. She must be dying from lack of company in this backwater."

"Actually, she's been…" Darcy realised that he best not mention Elizabeth, so continued. "Ah… Looking forward to seeing you. I will see to your things." Bowing he dismissed them with a, "Until dinner then. Cousin Sophie. Miss Trent."

"Darcy." Said Sophie, not bothering to curtsy, already turning her back and heading for the parlour.

"Mr Darcy" said Miss Trent with a curtsy and a direct look, before she also turned and headed after his cousin.

Darcy stood there and watched what seemed like more bandboxes, hatboxes, chests, bags and trunks than he thought he could possibly fill, even combining the entirety of his wardrobes at Darcy House and Pemberley, were unloaded into the foyer. "Mrs Pennywise!..."

* * *

><p>For all that Richard's sister stated she'd come to comfort him, the only time she, and Miss Trent (who followed her like the human equivalent of a lap dog) spent in Richard's room was when Darcy was there as well. During that time Sophie tried, in vain mostly, to get Darcy and Miss Trent to engage in conversation or else to point out her friend's many accomplishments. As Darcy would not be drawn in, Lady Sophie then spent most of the time either gossiping with Miss Trent about people no one else knew (or cared for) or complaining about; how bored she was, of everything they possibly could be missing in London, or how drab Ramsgate was, or the shops, the lack of social life, all the poor people, ad nauseam. Darcy found himself admiring how one particular litany by Sophie went on for at least five minutes without her ever repeating herself. Of course, Miss Trent, sycophantically, agreed, or disagreed, with everything as she was required to, while never offering anything original herself. It reminded Darcy of that quote in Latin that he and Elizabeth had so enjoyed. Late that night, when the ladies had retired, in a brief period when Richard was awake, Darcy related the story to him, and they privately called Miss Trent "umbra" (or 'shadow' in Latin) from then on.<p>

After only a few days of Sophie's 'comforting', Darcy noticed how much strain this put on Richard, so he took it on himself to occupy Lady Sophie and Miss Trent as much as possible. He sent Georgiana up to keep Richard company, while he transferred a lot of his papers and correspondence to the desk in the library, downstairs. This, as he anticipated, meant his cousin and her companion found any number of reasons to remain in the library as well, and then comment or question on his work. This, however, only worked for a few days, as Darcy became less and less able to tolerate their interruption, as it was frustrating his need to actually complete his correspondence.

The first couple of days Darcy noticed that Elizabeth had not returned after her precipitous exit. Talking with Richard added no light to why she left like that. Could it be that she was worried about her reception by Lady Sophie? Darcy supposed that neither he nor Richard had been that complimentary about Sophie at the few times she was mentioned when Elizabeth was around, and he was aware that the two of them had made the Earl sound like a real tyrant. He debated with himself as to whether to discuss it with either Georgiana or Richard, but he decided best not to, in case they noticed his attraction for her.

His dilemma was resolved on its own, well with Georgiana's help, really. Darcy later found out that Georgiana had got into trouble with something in the house, and not wanting to appear incapable in front of her cousin, who would have used it as an excuse to take over, went to Elizabeth's to ask for help. That apparently, was enough, and Elizabeth's visits resumed. Just in case it was because of Elizabeth's concern about Lady Sophie reception (he could not see how Miss Trent could cause a problem on her own, it was not like she ever gave any evidence of having an original thought), Darcy started taking the ladies out and about during the afternoon, when Elizabeth visited to keep Richard company during that period when he was awake. It didn't matter for her morning visits, as Lady Sophie never awoke before noon. Darcy found this was the only time he had for his correspondence. He still found it difficult to get all the work needed done as Georgiana and Elizabeth also met downstairs in the library. They were much more welcome and, although they did not interrupt, Elizabeth was a source of constant distraction. But, what a wonderful distraction she was.

* * *

><p>After running home carrying Amy Jane, she slammed the door and leant against it. She knew just how close it could have been, he was coming in the front door as she left. And yet coming home did not give her that sense of relief she had expected. A few calming cups of tea later, Elizabeth realised, it was his very proximity, the possibility of a chance encounter that still led to her nagging feeling of unease. Amy Jane appeared to sense something wrong as was particularly cuddly that afternoon, something Elizabeth was very grateful for. Still it took a long time before she could sleep that night.<p>

The next few days Elizabeth found she just did not want to leave the house, just in case she met him. She went out only when absolutely necessary, usually in the morning when he would likely be sleeping. To avoid going out after noon, she gave feeble excuses to Mrs Carter and, thankfully, these seemed to be taken at face value. When Amy Jane started asking about when they were going to visit 'Giana again, Elizabeth found it much harder to explain why not to her daughter.

Thankfully this situation didn't last long. Georgiana came to visit mid-morning a few days after Richard's visitor's arrival. To Elizabeth's great relief, she learnt that it was only Richard's sister, Lady Sophie who had arrived with a friend, Miss Trent, not his brother. The brother's whereabouts was still unknown, but thought to be in the midlands, at some friend or another's. This cleared up, Elizabeth had no hesitation in returning to the Darcy household to assist Georgiana and keep Richard company. And, by doing so, Elizabeth learnt something she thought was very interesting.

It was a week later, on a day that Elizabeth had come to the Darcy house a bit earlier, that she overheard the Darcy's guest's talking. She was about to go in to become better acquainted, as there had been not any chance earlier, as Mr Darcy was obviously ashamed of her, as he kept her from their company after an initial perfunctory greeting. As she approached, she could not help but overhear their conversation. Elizabeth knew eavesdropping was not proper, but something she thought she had just heard, made her stop just before the door:

"I think you have fixed his interest this time." Was that Lady Sophie or the friend? Elizabeth thought. And who was the recipient? Richard or Mr Darcy?

"Oh, have I really?" This was said in a slightly girly, breathless voice, which at a guess would be the friend Miss Trent, but was she trying for Richard or Mr Darcy?

"Oh course dearest Cassie. See how much attention he has paid to you."

"Are you sure? He accompanies us, that is true, but it's like his thoughts are miles away."

"It's just his way. He's always been aloof. Even since his mother passed away."

"But all my other suitors pay me attention, hang on every word. Mr Darcy doesn't even answer my questions."

"Probably he's just thinking of London."

"What's in London? I thought his estate was in Derbyshire."

"It is. But it's not his estate he's thinking of."

"Then what?"

"Cassie, there are other things than estates to attract men of his standing."

"You don't mean...!" Miss Trent shocked voice was quite loud. Elizabeth ducked back from the door, realising she had been edging closer.

"I've seen that look before, he's thinking of a woman."

"A woman? Sophie, you don't mean a ..." The last bit was whispered, so Elizabeth couldn't hear it, but she knew Miss Trent would have used one of the many euphemisms for a mistress. Poor Miss Trent, thought Elizabeth, she has a lot to learn about gentlemen of that class if she is expecting to marry one of them.

"Don't be so shocked, Cassie. They all have them."

"No! Are you sure?"

"Take it from me, they do. It is only that some try to hide it."

"What? All of them?"

"Yes all of them."

"What? Even the Colonel?"

"Not him, silly. He can't afford it. But Mr Darcy can, so..."

"But... Mr Darcy?"

"It explains why he is not interested in you, well in that way."

"But, but, Mr Darcy!"

"He's very clever, if he did want you to know, no one would know."

"Are you sure? I'll not marry him, if it's true."

"Don't be silly Cassie, with an attitude like that you'll never get married. Take it from me, you'll be pleased he's leaving you alone once you've given him an heir and a spare."

"Really? No!"

"Yes, it's true, Lady Trudy told me."

"She didn't!"

"She did, and Lady Hathwell too. Vicky said they are talking nonsense, and I'd learn better if I took the time to find the right man, but she married a Scottish peer so her judgement is questionable."

"But what about Lord Hathwell?"

"Opera singers. New one every six months."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"And Lord Teynham?"

"Lady Trudy told me her husband is..."

Elizabeth backed away at this point, as the conversation descended into salacious gossip. She leant back against the wall, stunned. Mr Darcy! He seemed so honest, sometimes too honest to tell the truth, but he... No! Elizabeth couldn't believe it. She thought about what his lady cousin had just said, not sure if she had heard correctly. Then she remembered how Richard had tried to warn her about him as well. Well, she was right about him after all. He knew all about 'fallen' women and the way they act, from personal experience, obviously. Well she was not like that, and never would be!

After this, Elizabeth ceased to turn up early, waiting until she saw Mr Darcy and his two ladies depart for their daily afternoon excursion before going to the Darcy household. It was harder to avoid him in the morning, but she arranged it so she would not be alone with him, just in case. It was easy to do really. He seemed more stand offish than before. He spent a lot more time with Richard's guests than anything else, both during the afternoon on various excursions around Ramsgate and then monopolising them during dinner and afterwards. He not did not allow Lady Sophie to spend time with her brother, staying downstairs himself, so they had to stay there also.

Well into the second week of Richard's sister's visit, Elizabeth waited for the afternoon excursion, when she saw Mr Darcy leave on his own. Seeing this was an opportunity to meet with Lady Sophie and Miss Trent, Elizabeth hurried over. Leaving Amy Jane with Georgiana, as usual, Elizabeth went up to Richard's room. To her surprise, Lady Sophie and Miss Trent were not there, as she expected them to be, finally having an opportunity to spend time with him, having been abandoned by Mr Darcy. Asking Richard where his guests were, he seemed very blasé about their absence, saying hopefully Mr Darcy had taken them away again.

Elizabeth told him that, no, Mr Darcy had left on his own, abandoning Richard's sister and her friend to their own devices today. Richard said something about he must have had too much shadow (although the last word was in Latin), but the weather was cloudy today, no real shadows to be had. Confused, Elizabeth chose to let this confusing subject pass by, and rather than question Richard further, changed the subject instead. Richard seemed not as good today, and for some reason Mr Darcy's absence annoyed Elizabeth more than normal. He should be here to help.

After about an hour Richard asked Elizabeth to read, as he was feeling very tired. She fussed about him, making sure he wasn't coming down with anything, and became a little concerned as his breathing was a bit chesty and he was a little hot. Elizabeth got Sergeant O'Connor to ensure he had a hot lemon honey drink available at all times, then sent him off to the Apothecary for both a particular tisane and a general linctus she had found efficacious in the past. After doing all she could, she picked up the book and started reading at the point she left off last time.

Once the Sergeant returned, and Richard had taken the appropriate doses, Elizabeth continued to read until he fell into an easy sleep. After a while, Elizabeth decided she best check on Amy Jane, so asked Sergeant O'Connor to continue to monitor Richard, but to get her if he either awoke, his breathing became laboured, or his fever increased.

Having left Richard well cared for, Elizabeth headed downstairs to see how Amy Jane was faring, and also to have a chance to meet Richard's sister and her friend. The first of this was both quick and easy, Georgiana and Amy Jane continuing to enjoy each other's company. Georgiana had a natural gift with teaching children, and Amy Jane was making great strides on learning to write her numbers and letters, Georgiana hading dug up an old slate board and chalks from somewhere. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, just watching as they both sat on the floor, Amy Jane coated liberally with chalk dust, Georgiana managing to avoid the most of it, while her daughter wrote out M's. Georgiana noticed her first, and tapped Amy Jane on the shoulder. With an exuberant "Mummy!" Elizabeth had to brace herself from her child's greeting that nearly bowled over her. Thankfully Georgiana was far more subdued, and just smiled as she got up.

After dealing with a few excited questions and comments from Amy Jane, Elizabeth discovered that they were fine, and Georgiana was happy to continue to entertain her young charge. Elizabeth suggested that she could stay to allow Georgiana time with her female guests, but to Elizabeth's surprise, Georgiana was quite adamant that she had made it this far through the alphabet, and needed to see it to its conclusion. Georgiana did add that her brother, Mr Darcy, would be back soon to spend time with them, as he had only gone out to see Mrs Younge and ensure that when came to trial in a few weeks time his particular desires in the case be adhered to.

Elizabeth thought that this was unnecessary on his part, as Lord Roskill was well known in the area as a 'hanging judge' and needed no encouragement to ensure the ultimate sanction was applied, although Darcy must not have know of it. But fairly typical of the man, she thought, he needs to make sure the person that betrayed Georgiana, and thus by extension as his sister who was his 'property' him as well, is hung. Just in case local justice was not as strict as Mr Darcy would expect in his own county, where he could instruct the magistrate on how to rule in each case.

After giving her daughter a final hug and an admonishing her to be good, Elizabeth brushed off the worst of the chalk dust, excused herself and headed for the parlour for the second part of her activities downstairs. In hindsight she wished she hadn't.

For the next half an hour or so, Elizabeth was subjected to the most condescending, snobbish, hyper-critical, disapproving series of impolite, bordering on rude, questions or sneering comments that were only barely disguised as conversation or 'helpful advice' from Richard's sister Lady Sophie. Miss Trent, or Cassandra, was only pleasant in contrast, as she appeared to have no original thought of her own, so Elizabeth only had to defend just about everything about her physical appearance or lack of connections from one point of attack, even if from two voices. Still, it was fun for once, not feeling like she had to hold herself in, and gave as good as she got, pretty sure she'd gained Lady Sophie's everlasting enmity in less than an hour.

As soon as was barely polite to do so, Elizabeth made the excuse that she needed to see to the Colonel's care, to more complaints of how ill used Lady Sophie and Miss Trent had been, worn to a frazzle (huh!) in having to actually spend time in something as unfashionable as a sick room. She had not been so glad to quit a room since… well in a long time. As she returned to Richard's sick room, she thought, if Cassandra is whom Mr Darcy is going to marry, they are welcome to each other.

Thankfully the Sergeant was able to report that Richard was sleeping peacefully, and if the slight fever had not subsided, it did not appear to have grown worse. Between the two of them, they pottered around doing all those little things necessary to help care for a patient. Sometime during this, Elizabeth heard Mr Darcy return and, from the sound of it, in a fairly foul mood. Probably got told to mind his own business by Lord Roskill. Thankfully he didn't come upstairs, spreading his ill-humour, but took the guests out instead. While watching over Richard, Elizabeth amused herself with thinking about how that particular outing would be going, given Mr Darcy's 'fine' mood and the certainty that Lady Sophie would spend the trip carrying on a character assassination of Elizabeth, all of which he would be happily agreeing to.

* * *

><p>Darcy had just about enough of his cousin and her guest. He could block out their inane attempts at conversation, how they ever thought he'd be interested in fashions or gossip about people he didn't know or, if he knew, didn't care about. He ignored the continued hints and veiled references to marriage, directed at him and Miss Trent. Why Sophie hadn't worked out he was never going to 'come to the point' by now, he couldn't understand, or was she just hoping to wear him down, as Aunt Catherine was doing also. Darcy could even forgive Miss Trent the way she tried to appear to dote on Georgiana when he was around (shamelessly egged on by Sophie), trying to insinuate herself in his good graces by doing so. Did she not realise how he knew how she completely ignored his sister when he wasn't there? But when they turned their vicious tongues on Elizabeth, who was superior to them in everyway but her connections, he found his composure sorely tested. He was already in a bad mood from having to stare down that murderous magistrate Lord Roskill over Mrs Younge, so very nearly lost his temper with them, only just biting his tongue in time. It appeared that as much as he tried to keep the pair of them from spending time with Elizabeth, she went to meet them. He expected that sort of confidence. It appeared that her biggest crime, even more than her lack of connections, was appearing with a bit of chalk on her clothing! As if a little chalk could detract even an iota from the intense beauty of a pair of fine eyes, so lively, with a depth of soul that shone through, turning her face into something quite, quite special. Actually, unique, in his experience.<p>

So Darcy started to count the remaining days before Lady Sophie and Miss Trent would leave, thankfully only a few days away. He hoped that Sophie would not find some excuse to delay her departure, but the lack of social activity in Ramsgate was boring her silly. Something he was so grateful for, even if he also found the unvaried social activity trying at times.

* * *

><p>It was the day of their departure. Darcy had already arranged for the coaches to be packed and all other preparations had been completed. All that was needed was the passengers, but they would not be ready for a while. To pass the time Darcy sorted through the post. After putting his business correspondence to one side he opened the only personal letter that had arrived this morning.<p>

Ah, finally, a letter from Charles, Darcy was pleased. Charles was never a faithful correspondent, usually replying to letters on a one reply to every three of four letters Darcy wrote, Darcy did expect Charles to have made a decision in regard to Janet, and let him know if he had proposed or not. Or, knowing Charles, sent this letter to ask Darcy if he should. So what is it? Notification of a proposal given and accepted? A long, and badly thought out plea for advice. Well if it was the latter, sorry Charles, but this is one decision I'm not making for you.

Suddenly realising he'd had Charles letter in his hand unopened, while he sat at his desk, wool-gathering, he cut the letter open, in his haste ripping the corner. Opening it out, Charles's deplorable handwriting was a lot worse than normal, the words ill-formed, even when they were visible around the smudges and blots. It was rather short, although not that unusual, but even so Darcy could not understand more that about one word in four. It was like Charles wrote it while drunk. The phrase, "took your advice, Darcy" was the only bit where more than one word was decipherable, or at least that is what Darcy though it said. Something clearly had happened, but this letter gave no clue on what. As for giving advice, Darcy could not think what he'd said that Charles could consider as advice, he had scrupulously avoided giving Charles any, as far as he could recall.

Another few attempts at reading it, produce no further elucidation so, somewhat reluctantly, he put it in his coat pocket, to ask Richard later. Richard always had better luck reading Charles's writing. Must be that by also having poor penmanship allowed him to read it.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

**So there it is. Just the sister and a friend, who came, caused a great deal of disruption and angst, and has gone again. But, never fear, gentle readers, Lady Sophie will appear again.**


	28. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 16

**Part 2 – Relatives, Chapter 16**

**.**

**Merry Christmas to you all. **

**.**

* * *

><p>It was later that evening when Darcy sank into the easy chair in Richard's room. "Thank God, they've gone."<p>

"Darcy, that was almost blasphemy."

"No, Richard, it isn't if you really are thankful to the Lord they've gone. I prayed hard for fine weather so they would depart on time, and God answered my prayers."

"How come he listens to you? I've been praying that almost from the day she arrived."

"Maybe I am a more deserving sinner than you."

"When have you been a sinner?"

Darcy thought, when I commit adultery every night in my dreams, but said, "We are all sinners, Richard. The bible teaches us that."

"I suppose there is no point arguing theology with you, it always bored me to tears. I never knew how you could stand it."

"Well thankfully, neither of us had a calling to the church. Anyway, I'd like to ask for your assistance."

"Anything Darcy, anything at all, you know that. What is it?" Richard was looking grave.

"Not much really. I've had letter from Bingley and I can't read it. I thought maybe you could."

"Just that? God, Darcy you had me worried for a moment there. Fine, hand it over."

Richard unfolded the letter and studied it intently.

"Hmm… It appears there was this lady… Anne?"

"Janet."

"No sign of a 'T'. What about Jane."

"That sounds right."

"Good god, Darcy, was he drunk when he wrote this?"

"Who knows, but I thought the same when I first tried to read it. I best give you a bit of background." Darcy then briefly explained, assisted by the occasional question from Richard, what he remembered of Charles's courtship, if you could call it that, of Jane. Darcy recalled that there was a problem with her lack of connection and a possible scandal tainting the family as a whole, but also thought, and told Charles, that a point in her favour was that she did not try to hide or deceive regarding her family, just was reluctant to mention them. Darcy went on to explain how he had encouraged Charles to find out her situation, as Charles was very keen on her. On further questioning, Darcy recollected the issue just before coming to Ramsgate was Charles's sentiment did not seem to be returned by Jane.

"…sorry, but that is as much as I remember, what with everything else. I hope this might give you a few clues."

"No problem Darcy, thanks for the explanation, it does make a bit easier to decipher. Can you bring the candle closer? … Ah, thanks… Something about '_not loving_'… Can't make out the rest, although that first word just after the splotch should be '_Jane_'. Maybe '_Jane not loving him_'?"

Darcy nodded, that was what he thought could have been the case. Richard continued, "Here's a '_I took your advice, Darcy'_, but the rest of the sentence is too smudged… Thank god he didn't try to cross the letter, you'd never been able to read it… Ah, this bit is '_thinking of…_' quitting?… '_London and_'… something, something… '_Yorkshire_'. Then it looks like '_Caroline saying_…' something, something… '_about his angel_.'. No, he can't be heading north, here he's '_going to drown…_' that word better be sorrows… '_in Scotland's_'…. finest?"

Darcy watched as Richard's forehead was creased in what looked more like pain than concentration. Not wanting to make things worse for his cousin, Darcy held out his hand for the letter. Richard, seemed reluctant to hand it back. Darcy gave him a look, brooking no resistance.

Richard handed it back with a final comment, "The last bit reads like a man in a very dark humour. Maybe you best return to London to see to your friend. I will be fine here."

"I will consider it, but first I'll reply asking him to write more information, and to take a bit more care in its writing. If that gets no response, then I might have to return to town."

"You do what you think best, Darcy. But it does seem like he's been more taken with this Jane than with any of this others, although they are all 'angels', he should come up with a new appellation if he's more serious, as this one seemed to have been."

"It did seem more serious than his others. He may have even been considering marriage."

"Marriage? Are you sure? He'd have only known Jane for a few months, from what you've said."

"Just that Charles started asking questions about marriage and love. Actually made me think about my parent's marriage, say, versus yours. Still, it was only in the most general of terms. Maybe I am reading too much into a passing conversation…" Darcy sighed. "Still nothing I can do from here, given I can't even read his letter. Best wait until I get a more comprehensible version."

"Hopefully that won't be long, Darcy."

"Well, Charles can be a very poor correspondent, so I will not hold out much hope to see anything inside a week…" Darcy sighed again. Then yawned. "Sorry. Been a long day."

"Darcy, get Sergeant O'Connor to come up. I'll be fine. Off you go. No need for you to become sick as well… No, no. Don't argue. I'll be asleep soon anyway, trying to read Charles's letter has worn me out. No. Again don't apologise. I was happy to do it. Of you go."

Darcy knew when he'd been dismissed, so he got up and rang the bell pull. "Good night Richard."

When the Darcy maid arrived, he got her to get the Sergeant, and then see to Richard's needs, as he would be retiring for the night.

Once Darcy was in bed, rather than go to sleep immediately, he thought about Charles. Poor Charles, to find a one person you really cared about, and then to discover they didn't love you in return. Charles was more sensitive than most people realised, his business acumen belied his sensibility. Realising he'd not sleep well, Darcy got up and composed a letter to Charles, rather than leave it for the morrow. The task done, Darcy returned to bed and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The unseasonally long period of fine weather came to an end sometime that night. The morning bought with it a reluctant dawn, trying to fight through heavy clouds and bouts of torrential rain. The rain then fell off and on all through the day, leaving everything cleaner, but sodden. Funny how the weather changes, thought Darcy, at least Lady Sophie and Miss Trent will be far enough on their way to London to prevent them returning.<p>

The morning post bought the usual assortment of business letters along with one from the Lambton Rector. Great! Darcy opened this first. In his letter, the Rector wrote that the entire congregation were praying for Richard's speedy recovery and offered their condolences on Wickham's passing. He confirmed that Wickham's burial had been completed as directed, and the turn out for the funeral had been greater than he had expected, given how long and under the circumstances of Wickham's last departure from Lambton. But death has a way of focussing the mind on memories of the good, and youthful indiscretions can be overlooked. In the matter of Mrs Carter's daughter, he regretted to inform Darcy that, due the gap between Mr Carter's passing and his taking the position, the little information he could add was a single entry in the marriage registry. This stated; Madeline Carter of parish of Lambton married Edward Gardener of the parish of St Mary Woolnoth, a parish somewhere in the merchant quarters in London.

Drat! Darcy had hoped that he could get some idea of the family's locality to start to trace Elizabeth's father and his estate. Mr Gardener must be related on her maternal side somehow, (why does that name seem familiar – Darcy couldn't think, but hoped he'd remember in time). Darcy wondered whether to get Bingley's man of business to look into every merchant named Gardener in London. No, best not, given the state his master appeared to be in.

The day passed quite slowly as Darcy found himself suddenly free all afternoon, having previously had to occupy his guests during that time. He thought about going for a walk, but the weather precluded that. Darcy wandered upstairs, finding Richard asleep and Sergeant O'Connor in attendance. A silent nod indicated his cousin was fine, if sleeping. Hummph. Darcy wandered aimlessly around the room. After a few minutes of doing nothing, Darcy went back downstairs and sat at his desk. All his letters had been written and the accounts were up to date. He stood. Couldn't think of what to do next, so sat back down again. He could hear the ladies talking in the next room, and wanted to go in, not to join in, but just be there, but it would be rude to interrupt them.

In the end he pulled out a piece of paper and, as he had done just after his father passed on, wrote a letter to him. He poured all his frustrations, his concerns for his and Georgiana's future, his growing desires and uncertain feelings, all of it, down on paper. By the time a lack of daylight caused him to have to stop, Darcy had several sheets of closely written words. Rising, stretching out the cramp in his back and fingers, Darcy carried the letter over to the fireplace. Carefully folding it, Darcy placed it on the empty grate. Reaching up to a now lit candle, he used the candle to light the paper.

Darcy stood mesmerised as the flames consumed the letter, the words and the feelings contained in them turning to smoke before his eyes. The smoke streamed in thin wisps up the chimney, taking those words to heaven, where he knew his mother and father watched over him and Georgiana. With a sudden shake of his head as the last of the flames died, Darcy put the now dribbling candle back. This little ritual, as it had before, had the cathartic effect he needed. He felt prepared to face the evening and the days ahead.

The next day's weather was the same. Darcy dealt with his correspondence in the morning then had nuncheon with Richard. Thankfully Richard stayed awake until mid-afternoon, and Darcy kept him company during this period, although for some reason as soon as Elizabeth arrived Darcy felt more tongue tied than was normal for him. But that was not a bad thing, as it gave him more opportunity to gaze at Elizabeth as she spoke. But by mid-afternoon Richard was flagging and Elizabeth, attuned to her patient, stopped talking and took up some darning, to let him fall asleep. Realising that he'd effectively be in the room with her alone, with nothing to do, he felt that may not be too wise. Excusing himself he went downstairs to spend time with Georgiana, who he'd neglected recently, if only to spare her having to spend too much time with their guests.

Georgiana was in the parlour with Amy Jane, of all places, with a chalk board, teaching the young girl to write her letters and numbers. Darcy stood at the door and smiled, go back a decade and you'd just replace the Georgiana with him and Amy Jane with a much younger Georgiana. Politely interrupting, Darcy asked Georgiana if she would like him to show Amy Jane how he had taught her went she was Amy Jane's age. This was met with an exuberant agreement and a beaming smile. So Darcy spent an entire afternoon in the most enjoyable way with Georgiana and Amy Jane.

The third day of poor weather, the rain had eased to a persistent drizzle, but the wind had picked up. Darcy felt that trapped feeling rising again. This time, he had a chess set taken up after nuncheon, hoping that chess would be less taxing on Richard than conversation. They were well into the first game, Darcy up two pieces, when Elizabeth appeared, and glazing at the chess set, silently picked up her darning again. Darcy didn't need that distraction, and found just her presence making it difficult to stay focussed. He hoped he hadn't, but truly feared he had glared at her, when the distraction she caused made him lose a piece he shouldn't have. Even so, Darcy won the first game.

Swapping the board around, they set up again. This time Darcy didn't have a two piece advantage, while the distraction of Elizabeth's very presence was as strong as ever. Richard must have noticed his distraction as he snuck an unorthodox gambit below Darcy's horizon. By the time Darcy was able to concentrate fully, he was down three pieces and his queen's side pawns were located in silly places, disrupting the defence of that whole side. By then it was a matter of time, the inevitable happened, even as Darcy dug in and found that rational anger that served him so well, and played as good an end game as he ever had, he still was left with no choice but to resign soon after.

Richard suggested that it be best of three. Darcy agreed and set up with Richard white again. This time Darcy was in the box seat, having conquered Elizabeth's ability to distract him. Richard and he were always competitive, so Darcy didn't want to just beat Richard, he wanted beat him as bad as he lost the last game. Seeing Richard was trying a variation on the gambit that won last time, Darcy planned around it, building a trap, complex enough that Richard wouldn't see it, and once sprung leave Richard two pieces down, finishing with knight forking his rook and white bishop.

Darcy was about two moves away from his triumph, when he realised he needed to use the necessity. Now normally this wouldn't be a problem, he'd just pull out the chamber pot, but with Elizabeth in the room, that wasn't possible. Excusing himself, Darcy charged Elizabeth with the important task of ensuring Richard did not queer the pitch while he was gone.

Returning, Darcy looked directly at Elizabeth, who shook her head in return. Smiling, Darcy returned to the table, and made the penultimate move before the trap was sprung. Richard moved in reply. Darcy reached for his knight, to spring the trap.

"No Darcy. You can't, it will be check." Check. What? Where. Darcy recoiled and checked the board. There it was. Yes, check by Richard's bishop. Where did that come from? His careful plans in disarray, Darcy moved his rook to defend. After a flurry of moves, and even swaps, both were down several pieces, although Darcy had the positional advantage. Richard was always too rash, and didn't consider his defences in the same way Darcy did. In the end the slogging battle of attrition led to a stalemate.

"Well played Richard. I thought I had you before that bishop pin."

"Actually Darcy, I must confess, you'd had actually won that game."

"What do you mean?"

"Once you left Elizabeth looked up from her darning, gave me a casual warning and suggested the move, I hadn't seen it, and obviously, you didn't either."

"Where ever it came from it was inspired."

"Darcy, I know it was best of three, but I'm too tired to continue for a tie breaker. Maybe you should play Elizabeth. If you are agreeable Elizabeth, of course."

Darcy looked over at Elizabeth as she rose, "Sure." He quickly stood himself and offered her his chair. Once Elizabeth sat down, Darcy retrieved the chair at the end of the bed.

"Do you know how to... Ah a see you've set them up already. Thank you Elizabeth."

Darcy turned the chess board so she would get the advantage of the white. As he was doing this, Elizabeth reached out and took one white and one black pawn in each hand. Shuffling them she held out both hands.

"Oh, right. Yes, right hand." Good, he still had the black. Best not play seriously, thought Darcy. He didn't want to embarrass Elizabeth by thrashing her too badly. Best even it up a bit before they started. "So I'll spot you my queen?" Darcy reached out to remove his queen before they started, but Elizabeth shook her head. Well, she didn't want it to look like she'd been given a hand, still best play simply for her benefit.

The initial game went as normal, Darcy watched as Elizabeth started with a conventional, if timid opening. Enjoying the opportunity to study her rather than needing to concentrate on the board, he developed his usual opening positions. Her moves were also fairly assured, so they moved into the middle game of thrust and parry quicker than he had expected.

"So, does your sister play, Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth castled.

"Of course not!" Darcy responded by moving his knight to put pressure on her queen's flank.

"Why ever not?" Darcy noticed that Elizabeth hadn't noticed the threat and instead moved her queen.

"Chess is a man's game, ma'am." Darcy moved his bishop to pin a pawn against her queen, so she'll have to deal with that, and forget about his knight.

"Yet here I am, a mere woman, playing. Maybe you think the rules are too complex for a lady to remember?" Elizabeth responded as he expected, moving her queen, but in an unexpected direction.

"The rules are simple enough. It's just the..."

Elizabeth interrupted, rudely, "What simple enough even for a woman?"

"No. Don't put words in my mouth. Yes, the rules are simple, so anyone can learn, even children. No. What I meant is... is, the strategy, the planning, the developing of defences and attack plans, that women are at such a natural disadvantage that they can play chess, but they don't master it." After saying this, Darcy looked down and moved the king's pawn forward one and thought, next turn I'll spring the knight's trap and clean up the board a bit.

"Really?" Elizabeth sounded really annoyed. Darcy didn't take too much notice of her move, he'd look at it once she'd finished scrambling to deal with his knight. Oh dear, thought Darcy, she's taken that the wrong way. Best reassure her. "Please don't take it personally. I am sure you play well for a woman, but for example, did you realise that by moving my knight, so... I have pinned your rook and white bishop?"

"Saw the possibility of it before you did. Actually, I hoped you'd do it."

"What? Why?"

"Planning, Mr Darcy. Strategy. A useful distraction for your opponent to focus on." At that comment Elizabeth moved her remaining knight.

"Why did you do that, don't you want to save your rook?" Darcy moved his knight to take it.

Elizabeth shrugged, "I would have lost one or the other. In the end it didn't matter. See." She moved her queen to a square that would have been in reach of his knight had he not moved it.

With a smug smile wide on her face she looked directly at him. "Checkmate Mr Darcy."

Darcy looked down at the board. No, he could... No. How about... No, not that either. Checkmate it was. He reached over and knocked over his king. At that Richard laughed. "Hoisted on your own petard Darcy! I'm sure you are too polite to say it Elizabeth, but I will. She's not only mastered chess, Darcy, she mastered you."

Darcy sat there looking at the board. How had he missed it? She'd played his inattention! In fact she'd counted on it. Wow!

"Don't feel bad Mr Darcy, you are strong in defence, but less so planning attacks, and I know you weren't focusing on the game as you would playing Richard." Elizabeth held out her hand, like a man.

Darcy shook it. "I offer fullest my congratulations on your win. I was comprehensively beaten."

"So, Mr Darcy another game? Please promise to pay attention this time, or I'll have to spot you my queen." Elizabeth was wearing a cheeky grin when she said that last bit.

Richard chimed in. "I'll second that request. I am not up to your weight, but Elizabeth just might be. I'll even promise to stay awake all afternoon to watch."

Darcy knew he couldn't refuse. But this time he'll play properly, regardless of Elizabeths feeling if he beat her well. "Certainly. White again?"

"No, I was white last time. Here, let's make it more interesting. If I win the next you have to teach Georgiana, if not I'll teach her."

"Hold on a minute, either way she's learning chess. I'm not sure about this."

"Well you no longer have the excuse women can't master it. Given the time and an inclination, fot it Georgie could easily get good enough to give you a fair game, even without spotting her your queen."

"I suppose I'll never live that down."

"I doubt you will," chipped in Richard, "wait until the lads at White's hear this one."

Darcy glared at him. Let's see him try it. Darcy knew any number of stories that Richard would not want in general circulation either.

Richard held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just joking, just joking. Well. Do you agree or not, Darcy? Say yes, so I can see the two of you play properly."

"Fair enough. Loser of the next game to teach Georgiana." At that Darcy opened with the queen's pawn, and the game was on. Darcy was grateful this game was played in total silence. He needed his complete concentration, as they were far more evenly matched than he had ever imagined, and he occupied a spot near the top of the Cambridge chess club while there. In the end, and only after nearly two hours of slow considered play, was Darcy able to force Elizabeth into checkmate. But it was only just his win, she was only a few moves away from checkmating him, it was only a flash of inspiration that gave him the ability to end the game in his favour. Darcy leaned back in his chair, stretching out the stiffness, from being hunched over the board for so long.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. To be honest, I was surprised I won. I am happy to play a decider, but not today. Would you be agreeable?"

"Certainly. But I agree, not today." She turned to Richard. "Richard how are you?"

"Don't worry about me, ma'am. I've not enjoyed watching a chess games as much as I did watching this one today. I have to admit my feeble knowledge of strategy is not up to either of yours. Maybe I should recommend either of you to my commanding officer in my stead."

This was met with the usual compliments to Richard's strategic ability where it counted most, in real life. This turned into a more general conversation, which was as easy as when Richard was first injured.

Over the next few weeks they played on a regular basis. Elizabeth and Darcy both could beat Richard. Georgiana was just learning (although Darcy noticed that Georgiana already knew the moves and basic strategy before her first official lesson, I wonder how that happened?). However Elizabeth and Darcy were very evenly matched. Where the game was played quickly to fit in between other plans, Elizabeth won most, if not all. Conversely, if they had all afternoon, and Darcy had time to study the board in depth, he usually won those.

The bad weather did not last long. As Darcy had got into the habit of going out in the afternoon, he was keen to continue it. So he planned trips he knew Georgiana would enjoy for every second day if the weather allowed. When on these, besides enjoying showing her the local area, Darcy found he enjoyed the freedom to just be himself with his sister, without having to think how their behaviour would be perceived, as they both would in London, and even in Derbyshire, although to a much lower degree.

* * *

><p>It was nearly two weeks later that Darcy excused himself and headed to the court for Mrs Younge's appearance. She was a way down the order, and Darcy sat and watched as a number of other unfortunates went up before Lord Roskill. He certainly dealt with transgressions with a firm hand, and as the number of sentences of "be hanged by the neck until dead" mounted up, Darcy started to wonder if any of them were in Mrs Younge's position, just dupes of another. But most certainly looked like criminals, and when they opened their mouths, they just confirmed it.<p>

Finally Mrs Younge was called to the dock. Lord Roskill declared an adjournment, asking Mr Darcy to meet him in his chambers. Once in private, the magistrate made one last attempt to change Darcy's mind about allowing what he called 'a dangerous precedent by showing clemency'. But Darcy stood firm, and refused to countermand the agreement. When Darcy returned, Mrs Younge was pushed forward into the dock. Darcy noticed how pale and drawn she had become in only a few weeks. The case proceeded as the others, although this time Darcy stood and made his statement. As did the others before her, Mrs Younge also gave an impassioned speech protesting her innocence. In this, Darcy noticed, her refined tones had gone, in its place was a very strong London slum accent. Maybe she was not as innocent as he had supposed, still it was too late to change things, and he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Mrs Younge's show of emotion did not sway the court, and Lord Roskill had no problem with pronouncing a guilty verdict. At this Mrs Younge, who had been looking imploringly at Darcy right up to this moment, collapsed in on herself. Darcy noticed she was visibly trembling and was as white as a sheet. As with previous cases, the court looked at Lord Roskill, some dreading hearing his sentence, others in keen anticipation, depending on whether they were friends or relatives of the accused, or those that made money from, or just enjoyed, a good hanging. And a pretty young lady's hanging was particularly anticipated. There was a collected gasp as Lord Roskill, with a glare at Darcy, and a look of disgust plain across his face, passed a sentence of transportation to the penal colony of Australia!

Mrs Younge was shaken, but visibly relieved. She mouthed a "thank you" at Darcy as she was led away. Darcy felt drained, so left the court before the next case was called. He just hoped that she'd take the opportunity for redemption he had fought to get for her. But, he supposed, he'd never know. Best just assume she had.

Darcy didn't feel like returning to the house just yet, so rode out of Ramsgate. Once on the road west, he spurred his horse into a canter, riding hard, until both horse and rider were exhausted. At that point Darcy got off and led Atticus up a nearby hill. Once at the top, while Darcy allowed his horse to recover, he stood alongside staring out over the channel for a long while, his thoughts miles away. The return to Ramsgate was at a far more sedate pace, arriving as the sun started to set to meet Georgiana's worried expression. Apologising, he rushed upstairs, popping in to see Richard, who seemed fine, but was asleep, before preparing for dinner.

After dinner, Darcy went up to see Richard, who was now awake. Richard immediately noticed how Darcy was troubled, and asked him about it. He really did not want to discuss what had happened today, as he knew they had different views on this, but Richard was persistent. So, in the most factual way possible, Darcy gave an account of Mrs Younge's trial and sentencing. But Richard knew him too well, and appeared to know far more about Lord Roskill than Darcy would have expected, so called him out over interfering in local justice. Richard did not think Mrs Younge's appalling betrayal should be rewarded by Darcy arranging clemency for her.

So Darcy explained how he felt she was tricked by Wickham, and thus her redemption could be possible. Her mistake was in trusting a man not worthy of her trust. Maybe, just maybe she could put together a new life in Australia, one in which her mistake would not be held against her. Richard, countered that she was very likely to fall back to her old ways, if she survived the trip, and in any case Darcy was never going to discover the outcome of his generosity. Darcy was in no mood to argue, but Richard, apparently, was. So the discussion went on for far longer than Darcy had wanted, but neither were able to change the other's earlier opinion. Darcy finished the discussion (well, argument) with the statement regardless of what Richard thought was appropriate the Good Lord asked us to forgive those that trespassed against us. With that Darcy had had enough. So he made his excuses and went to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	29. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 17

**Part 2: Relatives, Chapter 17**

* * *

><p>Elizabeth enjoyed playing chess with Mr Darcy, as it gave her the opportunity to show him how condescending he had been that first game. "Spot her a queen" indeed. And the outcome didn't even matter that much, although he had the edge if she couldn't pressure him to make moves quickly, even if she lost they were still close run things, Elizabeth never received a drubbing they way she had beaten him that first game.<p>

Elizabeth particularly enjoyed teaching Georgiana, as she had trapped her brother into a fate accompli with her wager. Georgiana was keen to learn, and showed many of the considered traits of her older brother, and would give him a reasonable game before long. Elizabeth always admired the way Georgiana was focussed, almost driven to excel, at whatever skill she chose, her exemplary music performances the most obvious of this. Elizabeth struggled to remember all those hours spent in her father's study, learning the complexities of chess, to be able to impart these to her student, but it was so long ago, she was certain she'd forgotten most of it. In the end she had to rely on the advice from the retired ex-naval officers that she played with in Ramsgate. They even had a few books on it, which they had studied on those long hours on watch sailing around the world.

While all this was happening, Elizabeth received Jane's next letter, after nearly three weeks. She opened it, hoping that the delay meant a decent two page letter, even crossed, if she was lucky. But what she found was a letter just as the last one; de rigour questions asking about the health of Elizabeth, Amy Jane and the Colonel and then a very basic report on the Gardener cousins and the change in weather. Elizabeth checked front of the letter, as sometimes Jane was sloppy about writing the address, causing unnecessary delays. No, the address was clear, and there, it was dated only a few days ago.

Combine the delay in writing not in the post itself, the abbreviated contents with the lack of any mention of Mr Bingley, Elizabeth feared that Mr Bingley was no longer courting Jane. It appeared unlikely that he had gone from London on a planned absence. Elizabeth dreaded that he had found out about her scandal, and that her own past actions had ruined Jane's future hopes. Elizabeth wanted to ask Jane directly what went wrong, but felt torn, would that be pouring salt on an exposed wound? So, at the first opportunity, Elizabeth did the only thing she thought correct, she wrote an upbeat letter full of all the little things that had happened, dwelling on the chess game and how awful and condescending Mr Darcy was. She finished with a few questions that, hopefully if Jane answered them, would explain more of what happened. After finishing Jane's letter she wrote to Charlotte, asking if she had also noticed if something was happening with Jane. Since there was nothing she could do but wait, Elizabeth pushed her worry for Jane to the back of her mind and prepared for the next thing she had to do.

* * *

><p>It was about seven weeks from when Richard was shot that, while sorting through the morning post, Darcy discovered there was a letter from the Earl to his son. Putting the rest of the mail to one side, Darcy thought it best to deliver it straight away. He walked upstairs and handed Richard his letter. Richard was enjoying the freedom of having the use of both hands, the splint having come off his wrist three day ago.<p>

"Thank you Darcy. You don't know how nice it is to open your own mail."

"True, but I do know how nice it is to not have to transcribe your letters – you can change your mind as often as you like now."

"Don't be like that Darcy, I was not at my best. Anyway, what's my father have to say for himself." Richard proceeded to read out different bits of the letter.

"...hope you are recovering... Full of pathos, my father."

"Oh ... Vicky's had a son and Mother is still up there in Scotland..."

"...She sends her love..."

"..but won't be down..."

"...Sophie's managed to upset the Dowager Countess again..."

"...sent packing to Matlock... Good, the further from Ramsgate she is the better I'll feel." Richard looked at Darcy with a wry smile, "She's certainly knows how to win friends, doesn't she?"

Darcy felt it best just to make a non-committal noise.

Richard carried on reading silently then gave a sharp barking laugh. "Darcy, you'll never guess who's just got hitched." Darcy, as was his nature, said nothing, they usually told you faster if you don't play 20 guesses.

"Go on Darcy... Just three guesses." Darcy waited out Richard.

"You're no fun. I'm tempted to just not tell you, but it is just too delicious to hold to myself. But Darcy, please... just one guess." Darcy sat silently.

"No. Fine! Sumerville!" Darcy had steeled himself to show no reaction, but this was so surprising that even he was shocked.

"I knew that'd get a reaction from you. Yes, Sumerville."

"But how?"

"Bear with me, I'll just finish reading."

Darcy sat waiting, growing impatient as Richard read to the end and then turned his letter over and read the other side. Finally he looked up. "Father doesn't say too much about the how, even after a lot about the who, but here's my interpretation, reading between the lines. One of Sumer's friends must have had to rusticate until quarter day, so they all headed off to this Nabob's estate. The Nabob had lost his wife so his daughter hosted the party. There would have been a wager, has to be. Probably something about who'd be first to seduce the plain bluestocking daughter who's the hostess. Summers 'wins' by getting the daughter out on a balcony one evening, alone or so he thinks. Mr Nabob is a commoner, but he's come up through the ranks of the East India Company, so wants to nab a peerage for his grandson. Daughter appears in on it, and there are a few others on the balcony, including... "

Richard paused for effect.

"The Duke of Rutland and Lord Rodney. So Sumers goose was cooked. Special licence. Quick early autumn wedding... and Sumers is hitched. Father's irate. The next countess is a commoner."

"I don't believe it."

"I wouldn't either Darcy, except that this is from Father." Richard waved the letter around then continued, "Apparently it's up to me to 'uphold the family honour' and 'marry into suitable bloodlines'. How father thinks that will happen, to a spare with a healthy older sibling, is anyone's guess. Still that's not the best bit. I'm certain father's added this information for my benefit. He's cut Sumers off completely. No allowance... none at all."

"That shocked you didn't it, Darcy? Still that's father all over, whore and debauch your way across England, no problem, he'll even cover the worst of your notes. Marry someone 'beneath the dignity of the family honour' and get cut off completely. Still not something you have to worry about. I know, I know, still you'd rather have your father. Hell, so would I. Have your father instead of mine, even if that meant Sumers would be burning through the estate like a pack of rabid rats."

"I'm surprised that he's not sent a begging letter then."

"Actually, this is the best bit. Father only cut him off when he found out Mr Haldane had gifted his daughter an estate in Cornwall. The daughter appears to have a will of iron, and fist of one as well. She's dragged him off there to sort him out. Father thinks the way gifting was done was very clever, Mr Haldane still owns it, but the daughter has complete control over the finances. It's worth almost as much as Pemberley, but Sumers has to go to his wife to get any of it. Sounds like father has a bit of admiration for the both of them but won't admit it. So there you go. Sumers hitched and in the traces well and proper. I suspect maids and tavern girls all over England will be breathing sighs, of sadness or relief, depending on their morals."

"I always thought the right woman would be the making of him."

"And I always thought he was bad to the core. So, Darcy, we'll see who was right, in time. Still, this can only be good for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You obvious think I've not noticed, don't you Darcy?"

"Noticed what?"

"See you do. Your attraction to Elizabeth. You almost sit there drooling when she's around."

"I do not!"

"No of course you don't. But you didn't deny the attraction did you?"

"Damn you Richard. I hoped no one noticed."

"Yes, but I know you better than anyone, well other than maybe Bingley."

"No, he's usually too focussed on his latest 'angel' to notice. Oh... Got a letter from him yesterday. Your reading of his letter was correct. He states his regard for her was not being returned, and then his sisters confirmed it. I'd discount Caroline's observations, but if Louisa concurred... Poor lad. I tried to help out, but it is hard to do anything tacking back and forth between Ramsgate and London as I was doing at the time."

"Good effort at changing the subject, Darcy. Yes, it's good you've helped your friend, I suppose you only have to be grateful you've not had to buy her off like... like, what was her name?"

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Watt. You did that on purpose."

"Still some fight in the old dog. Speaking of Elizabeth..."

"Fine. Yes, I admit it. I am attracted to Elizabeth. Yes, fine. Very attracted to Elizabeth! But what can I do about it. You know her situation as well if not better than I do."

"Don't you see. Summer's marrying a commoner gives you a perfect chance."

"Chance of what, Richard?"

"Marriage, of course. I'd not see you offering just to keep her."

"Richard! How dare you insult me and her. Take that back!"

"See I told you, I know you'd not make her an immoral offer. And I doubt she'd accept anyway. She's probably had any number of them already. And some must have been fairly well off."

"No! Who?"

"How should I know. And even if I did, what are you going to do, make it worse by challenging them? Then everyone would definitely think you've made that type of offer, and worse, she'd accepted."

"I'll still not have it."

"Of course not. Consider it unspoken."

"Apology accepted."

"How magnanimous of you. But back to where we were. Sumers public indiscretion means you can marry her quietly. She's a gentlewoman and knows how to behave. Rusticate for a while in Derbyshire, the family and society will accept it eventually. This weeks on dit is yesterday's history."

"I can't. If it was just me, well, maybe. It would be a huge sacrifice to make, but as you say, her deportment is almost there. I'm sure I could teach her the rest to be accepted, eventually. We can disguise her past somehow. Amy Jane's the real problem, but there must be a solution, even if I still haven't thought of one yet."

'So you have thought about it then."

"Most nights Richard. Most nights."

"You have got it bad."

"Yes I do. And marriage is the only acceptable solution to me."

"See, there you go."

"But Richard, it isn't just me. This would have major effects on Georgiana's prospects."

"True. Can't see any way out of that. Maybe if you talk to her, Darcy."

"I can't. You and I both know she would sacrifice herself for me, for a lesser gain for me and a greater loss for her. I won't allow it."

"You are right about Georgiana, but it may just be a sacrifice that she truly would be willing to make. You'd have to delay her coming out a year or so to let the furore die away. But mother would be bringing her out away, so she would be partly separated from your disgrace."

"I can't allow it. I will just have to wait until Georgiana has married. It is, as you say only a few years. I have waited this long. I can wait longer."

"Your funeral Darcy. Hope you are up to it."

"Don't doubt my will Richard."

"Never taken a wager against it Darcy."

Darcy fell silent. He felt drained. He'd not articulated his thoughts so clearly even to himself. Talking with Richard clarified a few things in his mind, but he still didn't have a solution that would allow them to marry as yet.

"Sorry Richard. I am feeling a little tired. Best be off. Maybe we'd talk about this later, if you have any solution to her background or Amy Jane."

"I'll think on it Darcy. But with the leg..."

"Don't over stress yourself on my behalf. I can, and will, wait. Good night Richard."

"Night, Darcy... Oh... we need to talk about Bingley's letter tomorrow."

"That'll be fine. Good night Richard!"

"Night."

* * *

><p>A few days later Darcy was downstairs at his desk in the afternoon, still working his way through a large pile of business letters, as the post had been delayed due to heavy rainfall turning the road into a quagmire, when a little face popped her head around the door.<p>

"Hello mister."

"Hello, little lady."

"I'm not little! I is a big girl now. I'm four!"

"So sorry. Hello big girl."

"What'cha doing?"

"What am I doing? I'm writing letters."

"I writing my letters too! 'Giana is showing me."

"Yes I know. I think you are very clever."

"I know, my mummy says me."

"Tells me."

"She says you are clever too?"

"No, you should say 'my mummy tells me'."

"You're funny. Does your mummy say you are clever."

"She did. I no longer have a mummy to tell me things."

"Everyone has a mummy!"

"Yes, but my mummy has gone."

"Gone where?"

"She's gone up to heaven."

"Will she be coming back?"

"No Amy Jane, she won't."

At that Darcy was surprised by a little girl stepping forward and giving him a big hug. After a moment's hesitation he returned it. Amy Jane looked up at him. "I have the bestest mummy."

"That you do. Do you have a daddy?" Let's see what Elizabeth has told her.

"No, I don't have a daddy." So she hasn't said anything. Suddenly Darcy had a burst of inspiration, here was an opportunity to get what it was he knew now he wanted.

"Would you want a daddy, a mummy and a daddy?"

"Can I have a daddy too?"

"Yes, parents that love you as much as your mummy does now."

"That'd be nice. I've never had a daddy before."

"Well, I shall have to see what..."

At that point they were interrupted by Elizabeth rushing in. "Amy Jane! Where have you run off to. Come here."

"But mummy!"

"No buts, missy. You are not to disturb Mr Darcy."

"Actually Elizabeth, I don't mind." But Elizabeth didn't seem take any notice of him.

"He is a busy man. Come away Amy Jane." Elizabeth held her hand out to her daughter. Darcy, reluctantly, disentangled the little girl and gave her a gentle push to her mother.

"Go to your mother. You can see me later, just ask your mother first."

"Mummy, can I stay?"

"No. He is not to be disturbed."

"Honestly Elizabeth, I didn't mind. She was not disturbing..." Darcy directed at Elizabeth, but it must not have been heard over Amy Jane's protest of; "But mummy! He's going to find me a daddy."

"I said no. And I mean no! Come away."

"Aw mummy, I want..."

"Amy Jane!"

"Sorry mummy."

"Come away dear, we don't belong here." And with that Elizabeth led the young girl from the room, with a glare at him. Darcy did wonder what that was for. Maybe Elizabeth though he was being too forward with her daughter. The next few days were a little uncomfortable, but it did give him the opportunity to admire her from a distance. And think and plan about his future, that is to say, their future.

* * *

><p>After that Elizabeth felt it best to avoid Mr Darcy as much as possible. Making Amy Jane interested in who her father was! The man was despicable. Thankfully Amy Jane was young enough to be able to either give ambivalent answers to, that she accepted, or just distract her. She could not see what his game was. This did mean spending more time with Richard, and less time with Georgiana. Although she'd basically learnt all Elizabeth could remember from when her and Jane helped Mrs Hill with running Longbourn, so there was little left teach her, that they didn't both just read from books.<p>

The only good thing was that Mr Darcy had become more withdrawn, so she did not have to actually converse with the man. It was bad enough that he was always there lurking, glaring, obviously judging and taking notes of things to criticise her later. Probably writing them all down and reporting them to his cousin Lady Sophie, for her to share with his intended, the 'delightful' Miss Trent.

Richard to, seemed to change, must be the result of his recovery. He was more friendly, more engaged, now more interested in Elizabeth, Amy Jane and their life. He asked the obvious questions about her past, but accepted any non-answer at face value and didn't push. So over time she felt comfortable in discussing some of her concerns, although being careful not to be too explicit. For example he knew she had a sister in London (how, Elizabeth couldn't remember) but as long as she referred to Jane as 'her sister' and not by name, there would be no chance him piecing anything more together. It helped to talk with him about Jane, his outside perspective helped.

But with the more friendly Richard there was also a more, more... nosy one? He'd ask questions in an oblique way, like he was trying to find out whether she was happy, how she was finding having to care for him, and about Georgiana and Mr Darcy too. Most of which she was able to answer honestly, but when it came to Mr Darcy she prevaricated. Richard obviously liked the man, almost to the state of adoration, given the number of stories he told about how generous, how thoughtful Mr Darcy had been growing up. But it was very easy to be generous when you are as wealthy as he or his father were, and as for the rest, Elizabeth was certain Richard was seeing through biased eyes.

But as was apparent, the stories were of Mr Darcy much younger. A lot must have happened to the man to turn him into what he is now, while Richard was away at war. Mr Darcy's father's death must have been the catalyst, the sudden assuming the mantle of power had gone to the man's head. Elizabeth just hoped that Richard would not be too disappointed when the scales came off and he realised the man his cousin had become. But he must have recognised some of it, did Richard not warn her about Mr Darcy's following in his brother, Viscount Sumerville's, footsteps? But men don't see that in the same way woman have to. Richard probably secretly admired it.

So Elizabeth learned to filter out this part of any conversation, as any parent learns to do. Well, until a week or so later when Richard mentioned something much closer to home.

"...Bingley's letter."

Mr Bingley. No it can't be. Richard knew a Mr Bingley? Could it be Jane's Mr Bingley? If it was, why would he be writing to Richard? Elizabeth suddenly was all ears. Know that she'd missed the first part, she remarked. "Sorry, momentary inattention, could you say that gain?"

"As I was saying, Darcy had a letter from his friend Bingley. I had to help him read it as Bingley writes atrociously, didn't help that the poor lad must have been in his cups at the time. That was all I did. The actual help was what Darcy did for his friend. He's that sort of man."

"And what was that?"

"Oh, I know I should not have mentioned names. Darcy would not want his and his friend's private affairs to be public knowledge. Promise you'll not spread this about."

"Of course not. I'm no fishwife."

"Good. His friend, Bingley had got entangled with a woman, whose family had been involved with a scandal some years earlier. Darcy said there was nothing wrong with the lady, it was more her family and the family's lack of connections that motivated her actions. Bingley was contemplating marriage, but Darcy managed to show him what a mistake that would have been, given the circumstances. Darcy's been good to him in extracting him from other ladies when his friend has gotten in too deep."

Elizabeth felt sick, all of this added up to Jane's Mr Bingley. "But what did he do to assist his friend?"

"Made him realise that it was a one sided affair, with much regard in one direction, but little or none in the other. Knowing this, it was easy for Darcy to advise Bingley to walk away."

"But what about the lady?"

"Darcy is the best person to arrange to pay her off. Bingley not up to it."

"Pay her off?"

"Yes, the usual thing to do in this situation, if she makes a pain of herself. It was not like an offer was made. She'll have no leg to stand on. Darcy probably got it well in hand already. He's very generous with offering his time or other assistance."

Elizabeth wanted to continue, but realised that she was too incensed to do so and remain polite. It was not like Richard deserved a tongue lashing, but he'd just given her another reason to actively hate Mr Darcy. But, give them the benefit of the doubt, it might, just might not be Jane's Mr Bingley. Excusing herself she collected Amy Jane and went home to reread Jane's letters.

If what she was told was true, her poor Jane. This would explain the lack of mention of Mr Bingley. On Mr Darcy's advice Mr Bingley had jilted Jane! Mr Darcy must have completely missed how much regard his friend had for Jane. "Much regard in one direction, but none in the other." Jane's regard for Charles there could be no doubt, it was obvious reading between the lines of every letter until recently from Jane. So it could only be that Mr Darcy though Charles unaffected. Jane certainly didn't think so. And then, after making that terrible mistake, he just advised Mr Bingley to walk away.

Jane was pining with a broken heart, and so, was Mr Bingley if he was drunk often enough to write letters in that state. The man was completely heartless. Pay her off indeed. As if any amount of money would mend a broken heart. But if the man didn't have one, then he'd not know of the effect of breaking it. Thus his callousness to Jane and even his friend.

The one possible saving grace for Mr Darcy could be that there were two Mr Bingley's. So at the first opportunity Elizabeth decided to confirm it. Best not to judge someone until you have all the facts. So later that day as Elizabeth had exited Richard's room and met Mr Darcy coming up the stairs she asked him, "Do you know a Mr Charles Bingley?"

"Yes, I do, he is a good friend of mine. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. No reason at all." Well that, though Elizabeth, confirms it. There could not be two Mr Charles Bingley needing extraction from an 'unsuitable marriage'. Yet another thing to chalk up to the unpleasant Mr Darcy.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had discussed the latest letter from Jane with Richard, although she had altered the dates so that the 'inconsiderate suitor' had jilted Jane several months earlier so as to prevent the possibility of Mr Darcy finding out via Richard, and giving something else to crow about. Elizabeth was sure he'd be broadcasting his triumph with Mr Bingley far and wide already. Richard was able to get to the heart of the problem, Elizabeth's concern was magnified because she did not yet really know what had happened, and it was still all guesswork, both of Jane situation and her state of mind. Richard suggested that she write to her aunt, Mrs Gardener, as that would provide an outsider's perspective, and from that, Elizabeth would know if her sister needed her or not.<p>

So, borrowing his travelling writing desk, Elizabeth wrote the letter as suggested immediately, then wrote one to Charlotte as well, just in case Charlotte had plans to visit London.

Mrs Gardener replied almost immediately confirming everything that Elizabeth had worked out already. It was to Elizabeth's relief was that her own scandal did not appear to have been the cause of Mr Bingley's perfidy, it was all due to Mr Darcy's interference! But the picture her aunt painted of Jane's state made it imperative Elizabeth go to her. Mrs Gardener even suggested it, making mention of how wonderful it would be to see her niece again. So Elizabeth talked with Richard about it. Towards the end of the discussion, where he also made a strong case for her to go to her sister, Elizabeth raised the part she had not been able to find a solution to.

"But what can I do? I am needed here."

"Rubbish, we'll all cope without you. Go to London, your sister needs you far more than we do."

"But I don't know how long I need to go for. I can't leave Amy Jane here with that uncertainty. In the past I could take her on the stage as a baby, but she's too big for that, but too small to take safely."

"That would not be a problem, I'll ask Darcy to take the coach."

"Elizabeth said "No" but this was unheard over Richard's yell of "Darcy! DARCY!"

Darcy must not have been too far away, because as Elizabeth was saying, "There is no need, no need at all to trouble Mr Darcy," but being ignored, when Mr Darcy turned up.

"What is it Richard?"

"Elizabeth needs to go to London, but it's not safe for her to travel on the stage."

"So?"

"So? Darcy? So, you'll take her. I don't need either of you that much now my arm is better. Her need is urgent, so you best leave tomorrow."

"Actually Mr Darcy, I don't need you to..." "Elizabeth tried to get a word in edgewise.

"No."

"What do you mean no? Darcy?"

"I mean no, as in, no I can't do it."

"Yes you can, you've not got anything else that has to get done, you've told me that yourself."

"Actually, Richard I can go on the stage."

Richard turned to her. "Of course not! Darcy is just being intransigent." Turning to Darcy, his voice raised, Richard continued, "Darcy you need to take Elizabeth to London. Sooner than later, if tomorrow won't do."

"I can't do it, Richard. You know that." Darcy voice was also raised by now.

"It's not necessary, really..." Elizabeth was standing now, but that seemed to make no difference to the attention she was getting.

Richard tried once again, "I know nothing of the sort. I don't ask for much, do it for me." Richard was ignoring her wishes as well. It was now an argument between the two men, whatever she wanted.

"I would do anything for you, just not this."

"Why not?"

"Just because..."

"Hah, don't you 'just because' me, Darcy. I remember you in short pants!"

Elizabeth had enough of being fought over and stormed off, slamming the door on the way out. "Men!"

* * *

><p>After Elizabeth stormed out of the room, Darcy felt complete frustration. He'd handled that badly. He sat back down to have Richard ask him angrily. "What is wrong with you Darcy?"<p>

"What do you mean?"

"I give you the perfect opportunity to spend time with Elizabeth and you... You... rudely turn it down."

"Can't you see, I had to."

"Had to?"

"How on earth do you think I would survive a day and a half alone in a coach with her?" Unspoken Darcy added and not ravish her before we're half a day out of Ramsgate.

"But you wouldn't be alone with her. She'd be taking Amy Jane."

"Really?"

"Of course, she needs to take her daughter to London."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"Sometimes Darcy I despair for you. For all your intelligence you can miss the obvious. Of course her daughter would go with her."

"In that case I'll make the arrangements now."

"Good for you. Just don't blow it."

"I won't. I'm not stupid you know." Again unspoken Darcy added, I can restrain myself, what does Richard think I'd do in front of a child?

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it. That will help."

Darcy wasn't sure why Richard thought he'd need help. But best be off.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was pacing the hall downstairs, fuming. Once again Mr Darcy had shown his true colours. So much for someone that is willing to help. Elizabeth heard someone coming down the stairs, and was annoyed at this interruption. Looking up at the disturbance, it was the last person she wanted to see, and he was headed straight towards her!<p>

"Elizabeth."

"Yes Mr Darcy."

"It is all arranged."

"Arranged?"

"Yes. We leave tomorrow at 9. You and your daughter need to be ready by then."

"What?"

"Tomorrow at nine. Coach to London. Sorry, have to go make the arrangements. 'Til tomorrow." And then he was off.

Elizabeth was so flustered by this she didn't have the time to tell him she'd not go. She was about to yell that at his retreating back, then stopped. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face Elizabeth, she thought. The stage to London was expensive, and usually not a pleasant trip. Certainly his coach would be far more comfortable, even if having to spend a day and a half stuck with him. But, hopefully he'll spend the entire time riding outside. Fine, Mr Darcy. I'll take your coach, if only to save the fare for her and Amy Jane, as this would mean she would have something to spend in London after all.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Here's hoping I can squeeze another chapter out before 2012. **

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	30. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 18

**Part 2: Relatives, Chapter 18**

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><p>The next morning, Darcy wondered how late Elizabeth and her daughter would be. He hoped they would not be too late, as the weather threatened to change for the worst, and he hoped to get a good deal of the way to London before the road started to deteriorate if the rain started, as it threatened to do. But, to his amazement, they both were downstairs already waiting by half eight. This was pleasing, he always preferred punctuality, and it was good to see the lady who would eventually be his wife demonstrating it without having to be told to.<p>

After a customary greeting, Darcy had Elizabeth's carpet bag loaded up. Meanwhile, she went upstairs with Amy Jane, Darcy assumed, to say farewell to Richard and Georgiana. Darcy was still organising the final arrangements for the coach when Elizabeth and Amy Jane came out into the yard. This caught Darcy off guard, and she had managed to get the door open and have Amy Jane inside before he could realised that was what she intended. By the time he'd come around to assist, and prepared to hand her up, Elizabeth was partly in as well. So Darcy had to stand there and watch her as tempting as it was to assist by placing his hands under her posterior and lifting. Independence was good too, although Elizabeth showed maybe a bit too much of it for his liking.

"Well Mr Darcy, ready to go?"

So she was keen to get off. Good. "In a moment ma'am. Just few a few last minute instructions." Darcy walked up to Wilkins and told him to drive carefully and be prepared to stop often as Darcy was not sure how the others would travel. Darcy asked if they would get as far as Canterbury before having to stop for the midday meal, but Wilkins was uncertain if the roads were dry enough to make that speed possible. So Darcy told him to do his best, before also climbing into the coach.

Darcy saw that Elizabeth had sat as far to the left facing backwards with Amy Jane opposite her, so he sat on the right hand side facing forward, and placed his hat between him and her daughter. Darcy had to lean forward to knock his cane on the front partition to get them underway. With a clatter over the cobbles, that made conversation impossible, they made their way out of Ramsgate, and then heading west along the road to Canterbury and London.

Once out of town, Darcy waited for Elizabeth to initiate conversation, but nothing, even as they passed the first milestone. So he thought it best to do so instead.

"Are you well?"

"Yes."

"And Amy Jane?"

"Fine."

"How are you finding the coach?"

"Good."

"Will she cope with the trip?" Darcy gestured at Amy Jane.

"Yes."

"Do you think the weather will be good all the way to London?"

"No."

"No? What, do you think it will rain?"

"Yes."

There was a long, long pause as Darcy tried to think of something else that he could ask.

"Will Mrs Carter be alright without you?"

"Yes."

This was hard work. Ah, of course, she was still mad at him for initially refusing to take her. Darcy wondered how do he would get out of this one. He supposed he'd have to apologise.

"Look I am sorry about yesterday. I, um, misunderstood, ah, what Richard wanted."

Darcy waited for his apology to be accepted, and things to get back to normal, but nothing. Elizabeth was going to make him explain himself, properly, she was obviously not buying an excuse.

"Please, Elizabeth. I really am sorry. I thought it would just be us in the coach. You can see how that would cause gossip neither of us would want?"

"And you couldn't bring a maid for propriety sake?"

"I was surprised by the request, so, not I didn't think of it. I am truly sorry. Please accept my apology."

"Alright Mr Darcy. I accept."

"Thank you."

Darcy once again waited to see if she'd initiate the conversation, but other than to point out things in the field alongside the road to Amy Jane, Elizabeth stayed silent. Darcy was not so enamoured with this resentful side of her personality, so made a note to discuss it with her at the appropriate time.

This set the tone for the entire trip to Canterbury, Elizabeth studiously ignoring him and focussing exclusively on Amy Jane's comfort. Darcy didn't like it that much, he certainly wasn't used to being ignored by anyone, particularly in the close confines of a coach. But with a bit of introspection, he felt a lot calmer, he knew he could be resentful himself, so he would just have to cope with it from her. So, if conversation was out, he brought out his book and continued where he left off, or at least part of the time, where he wasn't taking the opportunity to admire his fellow passenger.

They broke their trip at the Kings Head inn on Wincheap street in Canterbury. This required entering Canterbury proper, which added a bit of time to the trip, but Darcy knew the quality of the food served made the detour worth it and again, the landlord's offering did not disappoint.

A good meal also seemed to dispel Elizabeth's resentment, and so the afternoon's ride was quite different than the morning. Soon after leaving Canterbury, he and Elizabeth were back on speaking terms again, even if Elizabeth never being overly loquacious. When Darcy offered to get out his travelling chess set, she agreed readily to a few games, of which Elizabeth won two to Darcy's one. Darcy discovered it was hard to bring the level of concentration necessary to beat her reliably while the board itself jounced around.

The rain, that had threatened all day, finally arrived late afternoon, initially a heavy deluge, but turning into light rain, almost a drizzle after about half an hour. Darcy had hoped to have gone a bit further before the rain started, as they were on a stretch of road that wasn't maintained very well, so the coach slowed to a veritable crawl. He was certain that they'd not get as far as he had planned today.

As soon as they had passed that section, and were back on a reasonable surface Darcy knocked on the roof to alter Wilkins. When the coach stopped, he grabbed his hat and stepped out into the weather for a quick discussion with Wilkins about the light, weather, rate of progress, and what either of them could remember about the various places to put up for the night within reach. Decision made, Darcy climbed back in. Hanging his hat and coat out of the door, shook as much of the water off them as possible. Amy Jane laughed as she thought it looked like a dog when he did that. This lead to a number of animal impressions to keep the young girl amused. Elizabeth had the edge on him, Darcy imagined she'd done this far more recently than he had.

They arrived at the inn Darcy had agreed to stay the night, chosen by reputation, he'd not actually stayed there himself, in time for an early dinner. It was probably about time to stop, as Amy Jane had been awake the entire time. He did wonder if that was normal, as her remembered Georgiana always fell asleep part way through any trip, but he supposed each child was different.

Talking with the landlord, Darcy first arranged a private parlour to dine in, then discussed hiring two rooms for the night, at least one with a trundle bed for the child. There were several free rooms at the front of the inn with a trundle bed, overlooking the road, which were the best rooms, or alternatively two rooms on their own off to one side, but they had only standard beds, but a cot could be taken up if they took them. In the end Darcy decided on the better rooms at the front of the inn, the weather would mean there would be little traffic that night, so they should not be disturbed, as the inn was almost empty.

The meal was good hearty fare if nothing exciting, but there was enough of it to ensure they all felt well sated by the end of it. Amy Jane seemed a bit fussy and required a bit of coercing to eat, but Darcy supposed this was the first time she had been served some of these dishes. He had deliberately asked that no dishes with cabbage to be served, otherwise he'd have to eat it to set a good example, and a double amount of all the sweet dishes. He offered Elizabeth some of the brandy he had brought but she stuck with small beer as, obviously did Amy Jane.

The meal passed in an enjoyable manner, even if the conversation was a bit childish at times, but that could only be expected with a four year old dining with them. Darcy thought this boded well for sometime in the future (not too distant he hoped) the two of them shared evening meals, in a similar convivial mood. The only downside to the meal was that, once she discovered that Elizabeth was not his paramour, the serving maid was overly familiar. As much as he tried to hint or politely decline what was on 'offer', the lass didn't take no for answer, to the point of being embarrassing.

As he expected, Elizabeth excused herself and Amy Jane immediately after dinner and went up to their room. Darcy wandered into the almost deserted common room to finish his brandy. This time when the serving maid came over to sell her charms, with Elizabeth gone he was far more blunt, telling her in no uncertain terms he was not interested. She flounced off in a huff, annoyed she'd not make a bit of extra coin tonight. Darcy looked around for the landlord to complain but couldn't see him, so made a note to talk to him about her in the morning.

As he sat in the near empty room, finishing his brandy, Darcy thoughts turned to Elizabeth and what he must do to be able to marry her. Given that he had several years, at least, he could put plans in motion now, slowly working towards her acceptance, when they finally wed. Actually, there were only two real problems; firstly and most obviously the big one of Amy Jane, and for that, he had no solution. But for the second, Elizabeth's history, Darcy had an idea. He wondered, given her obvious language skills whether she would prefer to be Spanish or Italian, her colouration could pass as a very fair Spaniard or Italian lady, particularly if there was an English grandmother added to her history. Best for her not to be part of the peerage, they were all so intermarried with the English there was always the chance of the deception unravelling. Anyway, no need for a distinguished family for her, chances are if he did that she'd eventually play up to it, and start to want to be treated as the daughter of the peer her father was supposed to be. He wondered if he could find out the name of both a Spanish and an Italian family reportedly wiped out by Napoleon in the Times, and give her the choice.

Actually, now he thought about it, as long has he could solve the problem with Amy Jane, there was no reason why he'd have to wait too long. He knew Georgiana and Richard could be counted on to assist, and he'd just have to avoid Lady Sophie for long enough for her to forget about Ramsgate. Anyway, dress Elizabeth up as she deserved, with a heavy accent if they did meet, he doubted she'd look at all like the person Sophie remembered, if she remembered at all.

Darcy was nursing his last snifter of brandy, building cloud castles a mutually enjoyable future together when he was rudely interrupted by a drunk gentleman, if he could be called that, and his companion, who would be best described as a lady of negotiable affection. The gentleman must have been well known in these parts, as the landlord, previously conspicuous by his absence, appeared and fawned all over him. For a lone couple, they made considerable noise, although it was mostly squeals and girlish giggling from the doxy. They were helped along by the landlord and the serving maid, who had also made an appearance, choosing to drink with them. After a short period of this, their revelry drove Darcy to stop his most pleasant daydreams and head upstairs himself.

Darcy stopped at the base of the stairs and removed his boots. Then in only stocking feet, he tiptoed up to his room, feeling very proud of the fact he had managed to get to his room, opened and closed the door and prepare for bed with nary a noise over a whisper.

It would not have been long afterwards, as Darcy had not yet fallen asleep when the gentleman and his slut came upstairs also, well he assumed the gentleman was with her, it was only her he could hear. Worse yet they took the room next to his, rather than the other set of rooms, another thing he'd talk to the landlord about in the morning. So with much stage whispered instructions and girlish giggling, the pair got down to business, the bed banging the wall, loud squeals, moans and even the occasional blasphemy. After few minutes of this, Darcy prepared to get up to make them stop, when thankfully the man finished and silence reigned. Darcy waited for a while in case there was a repeat performance but thankfully the gentleman had only one in him that night.

Darcy, even with the disturbance last night, had a good night sleep, but woke early, as was his habit. After dressing he came downstairs to break his fast, to find Elizabeth and Amy Jane were already there, waiting for him. Darcy arranged for a private parlour for their morning repast. They were served by the cook, as there was no sign of the landlord. They ate in silence, Darcy felt embarrassed with having chosen this inn instead of another, and not having a landlord to berate, was in a fairly grumpy mood, so thought it best not to inflict it on Elizabeth.

As soon as they were finished Darcy left to settle the bill, while Wilkins prepared the coach for departure. Darcy felt aggrieved that the landlord did not make an appearance at any stage, so once the bill was paid, Darcy told Wilkins they'd never return here, and briefly, why.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth sat in the coach waiting for Mr Darcy to settle the bill and, if he hadn't done so last night, pay the serving girl for her additional services last night. Now, she had spent time in inns in Ramsgate, and knew of a man's 'needs' and the women that serviced them for coin. While she like to think she would never sink to that level, she knew that it was not a choice any of the women made deliberately either, having talked to a few. If you were starving, with no roof over your head, morality was a luxury that you could not afford. Without the lodgings provided by Mrs Carter and the assistance from the Gardeners, Elizabeth would, herself, be far closer to that point.<p>

But she did not expect Mr Darcy to be so blatant about it. No she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if this just confirmed everything about him she had either been told about or overheard. Even still Elizabeth saw no reason why she had to talk with him at all, and resolved to stay silent whatever the provocation.

Mr Darcy climbed in and they were off. He obviously felt contrition about how his companion had been last night, because, after attempting to start a conversation, and was rebuffed by her silence, he apologised by saying, "I am very sorry about last night, had I known the walls in the inn were that thin, I'd have got us different rooms."

Well I suppose he did the gentlemanly thing and apologise, but if he thought a simple apology would suffice he was very much mistaken. Thus the trip to London was spent in frosty silence, Elizabeth keeping Amy Jane on her lap as additional protection. Amy Jane sensed the mood in the coach and only ever whispered the occasional requested, and Elizabeth whispered the answer in return.

Elizabeth found her vow of silence had to be broken when, at the outskirts of London, Mr Darcy asked where she wanted to be taken. At this point she was in a quandary; should she tell him, and have him know where to find her? Give him a false address close to the Gardener's that would not take too long to walk? Or would it be best to rub the point in and tell him she'd get a hansom cab once they got to his London residence?

"Do not worry on our behalf, you have done us a great service already, we will just take a hansom cab from your residence. We do not want to trouble you further."

"It is no trouble at all. Just name the place and Wilkins, who knows all of London, will take us there." He sounded rather peevish. Elizabeth was glad she'd managed to annoy him.

"I cannot put you to that trouble sir. We will catch a cab."

Rather than answer, Mr Darcy rapped his cane on the coach roof. The coach stopped and Wilkins voice was heard to say, "What is it sir?"

"We need to wait here for a bit Wilkins, I'll let you know where to drop the lady and her daughter off shortly." He then turned to her and, in a calm voice (too calm for her liking) said, "We can wait here all day. Please, lets not be foolish, and tell me where you want me to drop you."

"Fine! St Paul's Cathedral."

"No. The real address please."

"The Cathedral will be fine. I have… prayers to make first."

"Then I will wait."

"No don't wait I could be some time."

"Look, I am not going to let you and your daughter walk alone through the streets of London, it is not safe. I will not judge your relatives on where they live. Do not be embarrassed on their behalf."

My god, the conceit of the man! The Gardener's residence would not be anything to a man of his standing, but it was no hovel. And her Uncle was a far better man than Mr Darcy could ever be, in everything but wealth. In the end, there was only one thing to do, so Elizabeth gave Mr Darcy the address of Mr Carmichael, as it was the only other address in London she could recall. Mr Darcy then passed this address on to the coachman. Elizabeth thought he was looking a little smug, thinking he had won that battle. Well, if he followed up, as she imagined he'd do, although the why escaped her, the Carmichaels could be counted on to preserve her privacy.

So Elizabeth was dropped off at the Carmichael's. This time Mr Darcy did not allow her to dismount on her own, and Elizabeth was not so lost to propriety to refuse his assistance. After he lifted down Amy Jane with a "Whee!" and a giggle in return, Mr Darcy turned to her, and handed over his card, letting her know that the coach would be at her disposal to take her back to Ramsgate, whenever her business in London was done. Smiling and letting him know she would be in contact if she needed it, Elizabeth picked up her daughter, and Wilkins carrying her bag, she knocked on the Carmichael's door.

Mrs Carmichael was please, if surprised, to see them both, and ushered them in immediately. Elizabeth turned and waved goodbye (and good riddance) to Mr Darcy, who must have waited to ensure she hadn't duped him. That done, Elizabeth followed Mrs Carmichael into her parlour, working out in her mind just how to explain being dropped here, rather than the Gardener's.

So Elizabeth informed Mrs Carmichael that the man in the coach was a relative of a friend (which wasn't a lie as such, Richard was a friend) who had been returning to London and she was able to get a lift with him. She asked if Mrs Carmichael could refrain from passing on any of her or the Gardener's details on to him, as she was concerned because he knew of her circumstances, and was a little fresh during the trip, so wanted to avoid any unpleasantness. Mrs Carmichael said she was happy to oblige.

As much as Elizabeth wanted to go to Jane immediately, having arrived at the Carmichael's unannounced, she could hardly ask to leave immediately. So as Amy Jane played with the other children of the house, she spent about an hour talking with her hostess, catching up on (almost) everything that had happened since they last wrote to each other.

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><p>Elizabeth's and Amy Jane's welcome at the Gardener's was all she needed to lift her spirits, which were a little depressed from the coach trip. Elizabeth gave the moments walking around to the Gardener's to try to work out why. The only thing she could put it down to was she felt a little betrayed by Mr Darcy's actions at the inn last night, although she could not understand why she should care about what he did.<p>

Over the course of the afternoon, as the two sisters and Mrs Gardener talked and Amy Jane played with the Gardener children, Elizabeth noticed how Jane low spirits improved. Coming to London was definitely the right thing to do. Dinner was the usual combination of good food, great conversation and much hilarity, Elizabeth and Mr Gardener particularly good at playing off each other, with their witty comments and puns keeping the company in stitches as soon as the bulk of the food had been finished.

But that was not why she was here, so Elizabeth made the excuse that she was tired to allow her to retire early, hoping that Jane got the hint and followed, which she did. So Elizabeth was able to finally able to do what she had came for, a real private heart to heart with her Jane.

Elizabeth felt it necessary to lead up to Mr Darcy's interference with Jane and Charles so started off with listing all the things she had learnt about Mr Darcy. And it was quite a long list. Elizabeth had got into the swing of things, and didn't think she'd exaggerated that much, but it was fun to keep the comments of "no!" and "that can't be true!" coming from Jane. As she needed to ensure the final part would be believed by Jane, who was convinced everyone had a core of goodness, Elizabeth justified to herself leaving out anything that showed him in too a good light. She also added in things, such as what she surmised of his actions with the poor unfortunate Mrs Younge, giving them a veneer of certainty in the way she told them, even if they were guesses. But knowing the man as she did, Elizabeth trusted her instincts and intelligence, as it had not failed her in the past. Take that Mr Wickham, for the most recent, other example.

After Elizabeth finished telling everything she intended to, including that Mr Darcy was a close friend of Mr Charles Bingley, she paused. "... so there you have it. This is the man I have to put up with while I care for Richard."

"But Elizabeth, are you sure everything is true? I cannot believe a gentleman could be as you describe. And he obviously has Charles' friendship. No I can't believe it."

"Oh Jane, you have to believe it. Yes, he can be pleasant if he wishes to. But he is not a good man. Nothing you can say to justify what he has done, will make it so."

"I can't believe anyone acts that way out of malice, could it be that those you have heard have been deceived themselves?"

"I heard it direct from his cousins, Jane. If there are anyone that would know the man in his private moments, it would be them. And... I didn't want to mention this... but this I know from personal experience..." Elizabeth proceeded to describe in great detail what happened last night in the inn.

"...well, Jane. Is that the actions of a gentleman? He may have all the outward appearance of one, I will admit he's handsome and has a fine figure, but in his heart he is as black as those that inhabit the slums in London. Worse yet, his money gives him protection that they do not have. I even had this debate with him, in which I made him admit that the rich have all the advantages when it came to the law."

Jane sat there, without replying. That she didn't try to see it in a positive light or make excuses for his behaviour, Elizabeth thought Jane would now be receptive to listen to the worst of his actions.

"But the worst of it, the very worst of his actions..." Elizabeth paused for effect, enjoying the way Jane leaned forward with that horrified anticipation of the penny dreadfuls. "Was not to me, oh no, it was what he's done to you!"

"But Mr Darcy's done nothing to me, I've never met him, he doesn't know who I am at all."

"Oh Jane, what I am about to tell you will be such a shock. Did you know Charles was thinking of marrying you, but Mr Darcy prevented it?"

"No! But... No. It can't be. I was only an infatuation to him, Charles must have found someone one better. No, It can't have been love, to have him abandon me like this."

"I am so sorry Jane, but it is true. Richard let the cat out of the bag. It was the night..." Elizabeth then proceeded to tell Jane how she had been so personally wronged by Mr Darcy. How Charles desertion could be solely laid at the feet of Mr Darcy. And to rub salt in poor Jane's wounds, Jane had to brace herself to receive an offer to buy her off by the very man that broke her heart.

Jane was visibly upset, and Elizabeth thought she might have just over egged the pudding a little, but maybe this short sharp shock would be what her sister's heart needed to heal. Sometime you have to be cruel to be kind, and better she discovered this from someone who loved her, than a stranger's gossip. Even still Elizabeth felt for her sister and so proceeded to comfort Jane as best she could. The main thrust was that Charles had proved himself to be unworthy of her, and that there would be someone out there that would stay true, regardless of what his friends or family think.

The sisters continued their late night talks every evening, cramming as much time together as they can, knowing that Elizabeth and Amy Jane couldn't stay that long as they put considerable strain on the limited accommodation in the Gardener's townhouse. Elizabeth was also mindful of how she really need to return to care for Richard, as he should be up to walking soon, would need a lot of assistance to recover the full use of his leg, something Elizabeth had some experience with.

However, as returning in the Darcy coach was impossible, for reasons that didn't need explaining, the pair of them came up with an alternative plan. Letters back and forth with Charlotte, who was an integral part of the plan, confirmed the arrangements in a week's time. Elizabeth was happy that she would be leaving Jane well on to way to regaining her usual equanimity of temper so, as Jane herself said, she would be able to see Charles with perfect indifference.

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><p><strong>As promised, the next chapter before 2012 (I've cheated a little, as it is already 2012 here in NZ, but it is still 2011 where this is hosted so it will be dated as 2011).<strong>

**The next chapter (Darcy with Charles) is already partly written, and was going to be at the end of this one, but this was a good place to stop, and did allow me to post in time. After spending the day with my children, I'll carry on tonight. If you are lucky I'll have another chapter up by the middle of the week (if you ask nicely). **

**8-)**

**.**

**To all my readers - Happy New Year. May each new year be better than the one before.**

**.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen **


	31. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 19

**Part 2: Relatives, Chapter 19**

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><p>Darcy left Elizabeth and her daughter at her Uncle and Aunt's house, watching to ensure she got safety inside. He was concerned how cavalier she treated the idea of wandering the streets of London, or even catching a cab. It must be that she considered London as just a larger version of Ramsgate. He hoped that she would not have to learn the difference the hard way, but supposed her Uncle would have everything in hand.<p>

As he left Watling Street Darcy wondered why she was embarrassed, admittedly it was not in the best area, but the house itself was relatively newly built and well maintained, certainly something that an aspiring middle class merchant would live in. It was a townhouse quite like what he imagined that Bingley's grandfather would have lived in as he built up the business, and very likely Charles' father would have been born in, before he later bought the larger house Charles remembered from his childhood.

Due to the time of his arrival at Darcy House, there were no letters waiting for him to deal with, they had been sent on to Ramsgate, as Darcy had not the time to rescind his redirections instructions. Steele and Mrs Taylor's competence meant there was nothing he had to address at Darcy House itself. So, after refreshing himself, Darcy decided he might as well go to see Bingley straight away. It was a good thing too. Bingley, by only mid afternoon, was well into his cups, but not far enough gone to be insensible.

Darcy was surprised at how badly Charles was taking the confirmation of Jane's mercenary nature. If Bingley was going to get cut up this bad with each 'angel' that finds his fortune far more attractive than his person, he was going to have a hard time of it until he got married. Darcy was surprised that his friend had not already learnt this lesson, something Darcy was familiar with since he was only barely old enough to consider marriage. And it only got worse once his father passed away. That was why Elizabeth's disinterest in his wealth and position in society was so attractive.

Darcy could see how Bingley's actions was causing concern for his whole household, particularly the butler Hulme, who was forced to provide Charles the spirits that his master was using to drink himself into an early grave. But every cloud has a silver lining, even this. Bingley's actions also appeared to have driven his sisters Caroline and Louisa and her husband Mr Hurst off to live with Mr Hurst's brother. This was very unusual, as Mr Hurst much preferred the generosity of Bingley's table and cellar, against his own brother's parsimonious hospitality, and Caroline and Mr Hurst's brother often clashed.

Realising that he was unlikely to achieve anything with a drunk Charles, Darcy tried to sober him up, but with little effect, only slowing but not stopping his consumption until he was able to convince Charles to go to bed. Darcy then requested Hulme to send a message as soon as Bingley was up tomorrow, although he did anticipate a full morning to pass before he got it. It was late the next morning, earlier than Darcy had thought it would be, when a Bingley footman arrived with the message that Mr Bingley was awake and could Mr Darcy attend as soon as it was convenient as, Hulme put it, 'the master was again indulging himself with liquid refreshments immediately after breaking his fast'.

This time Darcy was able to intervene in Bingley's self destructive behaviour, pretty much ordering him to attend lunch at their club. As Darcy expected, the public nature of a club meant Charles was not able to get drunk although it was obvious that's what he wanted to do. By this device, Darcy was able to talk to Charles and, after a while, got his agreement to stay (mostly) sober when they returned to his townhouse.

As could only be expected, Charles only wanted to talk about 'his angel'. Darcy could tell that, even in the short period of time Charles had been courting Miss Jane Bennet, he had fallen deeply in love. Darcy was only pleased that Charles was able to confirm her lack of regard as early as he did. Had it been allowed to carry on for the usual six months or more, no confirmation of her nature would have been able to sway Bingley from making a terrible misalliance. Darcy did wonder how Charles had discovered it, but he thought it best not to rub salt into his wounded heart by reminding him of that moment that his dreams came crashing down. And it must have been a fairly public humiliation, if Caroline and Louisa were able to confirm it; although they must have heard some gossip that led to Jane's exposure, they had sources of gossip that often amazed him.

Darcy had listen through all of Charles' monologues, full of heartfelt sighs, on Jane's perfection for a good part of the afternoon, without interrupting other than to ask for clarification. And he had done this deliberately. Now he had the information he needed to start on his campaign to bring the cheerful smile back to his friend's face. What Darcy really wanted to do was grab Charles by the shoulders and shake him, 'all this angst over a woman? Get control of yourself Bingley.' Now Darcy knew that as satisfying it would be to say 'cheer up, there are plenty more fish in the sea' it would not work. But in a way that was how he was going to deal with it, just subtly, obliquely.

Once his friend had run out of superlatives to share, Darcy started his reply. That afternoon, then over the next few days Darcy focussed on each of the attributes Charles' latest angel was reported to have separately and reminded Bingley of whom of his previous angels had been described by him in the same way. It did help that Bingley had new angel almost every few months, so there was an exhaustive list to work with.

Darcy knew he had managed to break Bingley's self destructive behaviour when Charles started to join in, assisting Darcy by adding the names of a few of his flirts that Darcy did not know about. By the third day, they were both were laughing about the absolute cake Bingley made of himself over the bar maid at the Clarendon Arms during his first year at Cambridge. In the end Darcy made Bingley see that all that he admired in Jane could be found in a number of his previous paramours, if not all in the one person. Although Miss Grace Davis or Miss Wendy Leat could be considered the closest, and while not comparable, Miss Davis was the granddaughter of a peer, and Miss Leat's father was one of the Manchester Leat's, and would come with a sizable dowry, both attributes Jane was missing.

Spending nearly every waking hour (well Bingley's waking hours) with Charles for three full days meant Darcy had to neglect some of his own business. To give him time to catch up he suggested that Charles must have business that he had neglected also, and maybe it was time for him to focus on that for the next few days, although they would meet for both lunch and dinner at their club each day, for the next week or so. That way Darcy could keep an eye on Bingley without mothering him.

But once Bingley's business at hand was completed, which took the best part of a week, Bingley went back to brooding, and in doing so, Darcy was worried that he would fall back into his old ways if he wasn't kept occupied. Realising a long three day ride to Pemberley would not only keep Bingley occupied during the day, it also have the added bonus of preventing Bingley drinking too much at night, as Darcy, being cruel to be kind, would insist on leaving, as planned, each morning, regardless of how Bingley's head was feeling. Darcy put it to his friend, that he had to return to Pemberley to oversee how the harvest was progressing, but Charles was welcome to come along. In fact, Darcy would appreciate the company on the trip. As an added incentive, he asked if Adams would be willing to come too, as they could talk all about estate management on the way up, then while there, Darcy could show Bingley the intricacies of managing a working estate, Adams could spend time with David Brown.

Charles readily agreed to this, as he had talked to Darcy any number of times about fulfilling his father's desire for the Bingley family to settle in an estate, as the first rung of many, in joining the gentry. Up until now it was always a theoretical discussion, but Charles seemed almost ecstatic at the possibility. Darcy then had to put up with Charles at, what Darcy had previously described to Richard, his most 'bouncy', for over an hour. Charles then, in his usual, try to do everything at once approach to life, tried to sort out what needed to be done before heading out of London for a fortnight or so, particularly if Adams, his Man of Business, came with him. Darcy was always amazed how Bingley's chaotic methods seemed to take no longer than his own much more measured, systematic approach would do.

While standing, leaning on the mantle in the Bingley library, while the host swirled around the room in the middle of trying to achieve everything at once, Darcy thought maybe an even more prolonged absence from London could actually be what Bingley needed. So as his friend rushed past, Darcy casually asked, if Bingley had seen much of his Liverpool or Manchester relatives since moving down to London? After only a moment, Charles agreed he hadn't seen them for a while and so decided to spend some time with them before returning to London just before Christmas, as Darcy had hoped. So, that added another frantic layer to his activity, arranging to continue onwards north after about two weeks in Derbyshire. In the end departure was planned for three days hence.

The day before leaving, as she had not already asked for it, Darcy made arrangements with Steele that Elizabeth Smith could return to Ramsgate in the Darcy coach at any time she requested it. Darcy felt very pleased with himself that he remembered to arrange for a maid for her, and a few footmen for extra protection at the sometimes rough and ready coaching inns on the road to Canterbury and on to Ramsgate. She'll have no grounds for complaints this time!

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><p>The trio made good time after the first day. That day was a bit of a disaster as Darcy arrived to discover that Bingley, left to his own devices had, in a now typical maudlin mood, had got deep in his cups and wanted to call the whole the whole trip off. Regardless of how often Bingley told Darcy that he should go on without him, Darcy stood firm and got him in his riding gear and on a horse by mid-morning. Darcy's only concession was to have longer breaks and stopped far earlier than planned that evening.<p>

For most of the remaining trip they talked lease versus purchase, estimating estate income and expenditure, what type of farming; crops or livestock, costs of farm machinery and other improvements, how to spot deferred maintenance and other hidden costs, legal matters, planting and harvest manpower needs, and a whole range of other subjects, covering everything that Darcy's father and his Uncle the Earl had imparted to him, although not in any detail. Darcy ended with a bit of a horse throat, but felt Bingley had enough to information to start the process of selecting an estate, and Adams enough to assist his master in the task. Darcy supposed that he'd be asked to 'approve' Bingley's final choice, but he hoped that it would be a mere formality.

They trip actually took four days, due to taking a detour to stay one night at the Matlock estate, to show Bingley and Adams an estate with a quite different mix of crops and livestock to Pemberley, as it was in flat river plains, as opposed to the more hilly lands further into Derbyshire.

That evening the pair were playing billiards after dinner. As there was only a short distance to go tomorrow, Darcy and Charles had sunk a couple of bottles of good red between them, and were now on brandy. After sinking the red, as Charles was setting it up again, he turned to Darcy.

"Darcy, I was thinking..."

About time he did some of that, thought Darcy, but replied, "What is it Charles?"

"If I had married Jane, would the scandal in her family's past be held against her?"

Darcy sighed while thinking 'No Bingley, move on.' Then he hoped Charles hadn't heard his sigh. "Um... I suppose it would have some effect, but not for people that know you well. Oh, my turn." Darcy turned his concentration back to the table. They each played a few more shots before Bingley once again stopped at his turn.

"You know, even if we were shunned by everyone, I think I still would have married her you know. I'd even have considered it if you said you'd break contact with me." He then turned to Darcy, "But you wouldn't, would you… Or would you?"

"Of course not. There was nothing to object to about the lady herself. Not that I had a chance to actually meet her..."

Bingley interrupted, "Well that wasn't my fault. I'd invited you when she came to dinner, but you had to go to Ramsgate. Oh yes, and you turned down visiting the Gardeners, where she is living in London."

Darcy's ears pricked up at the mention of the Gardeners. He tried to remember where he knew the name from, but it escaped him. "Look, Bingley, as I explained at the time, I'm not a great one for meals where we are fawned all over while your latest flirt makes eyes and simpers at you, I've sat through a number of them for you before."

"It was not like that Darcy. Jane is not like that."

"So you've said. She is a gentlewoman after all, she'd know how to behave even if her relatives did not."

"I have to correct you Darcy. Her Uncle was affable, intelligent and well informed. You'd enjoy talking with him. He was certainly respectable enough for you to know."

"I doubt it, Bingley. I doubt it. He's in trade."

"So am I."

"Were, Bingley, were."

"But I inherited the family business. I still maintain an interest."

"But there is no smell of the shop about you."

"But if I were in his position?"

"The point is moot Charles. If your position was different I'd not have met you, so we could not be having this discussion. Just be grateful your father did well enough to lift you and your sisters in to a higher, a better, sphere."

"But Darcy, just assume I was still working, and we did meet somehow, you'd not have befriended me?"

"I see you are not going to let this go. Do you mind me explaining my answer in a slightly roundabout way?"

Bingley looked apprehensive, but nodded, so Darcy continued, "You agree we occupy the same social sphere. Yes? Now admittedly we are at different ends. My father is gentry, but my mother was the sister of an Earl, but that still makes me a gentleman not a peer. Your parents were merchant class, but you were raised as a gentleman, as I was. Follow me so far?" Darcy waited until Bingley made it clear he understood by nodding.

"So we are from the same sphere, even if our parent's were essentially from different worlds. That is the beauty of the English system. No one's family is fixed. Your father, grandfather, and probably great-grandfather's hard work has elevated you to my level."

"Yes, yes. I know that, and I'm more than grateful. But what's your point?"

"Bear with me. I'm getting to it. We can enjoy each other's company, because of this. We share a bond of friendship even though, and you have to admit it, we have very different backgrounds, and quite disparate temperaments."

"True. I always wondered about that Darcy. How did we ever become friends in the first place?"

"If you'd listen, I'm telling you. Cambridge provided the opportunity but the friendship only flourished because we are both gentlemen, and all that entails. You know, we both know proper etiquette, have good manners, are guided by morality, exhibit restraint and self-control, and have an enlightened understanding of the world, yes? "

"Yes."

"My point is this, three people travelled here from London. So who is missing?"

"What?"

"Who's not here, Charles?"

"Adams, of course."

"Yes. 'Adams, of course'. But why, 'of course'?"

"He's my Man of Business. I thought it obvious."

"But is it? No, don't answer. There is my point. You probably spend more time with Adams than me, yet is he a close friend? Is he even a friend at all?"

"Well he is a friend of sorts, but it can only ever be a limited friendship. I am his master after all."

"And there IS my point!"

"Sorry Darcy, I've lost you. You've taken too long and I've had too many of these." Bingley brandish his now empty brandy glass.

"Your question was if you were still middle class, and not a gentleman after all, could we be friends? Yes we could, but it would be, as you put it, 'a limited friendship'. If only because of the disparity of our position in society, master and servant."

"Oh."

"That is not to take into consideration, that those of the lower classes are not educated, do not have the same morality or restraint of the gentry." Darcy's inherent honesty made him add, "Well, most of the gentry, anyway. Which is why society separates into these different classes, it is both natural and just. Like associates with like."

He watched as Bingley worked his way through the logic. When in his cups, you could almost see him think through each step. But as Darcy watched him catch up, he knew his point had been well made, and couldn't be faulted.

After a little while Bingley looked back at him, grinning. "Well Darcy, I can't fault your logic. In fact I have to agree with you. But, I still think you'd like Jane's Uncle." At that, Charles turned and walked over to the drinks cabinet for a refill, leaving Darcy with no reply.

Shaking his head, Darcy followed his friend's lead and wandered over for a refill himself.

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><p>The next day they left late, the official justification was to give Adams time to talk to the Matlock groundskeeper, the real reason was they both were nursing sore heads.<p>

They arrived late afternoon, after passing through Pemberley's fields and pastures. For those being harvested or mustered, Darcy took the time to ride over to each overseer and discuss progress. The first time Darcy noticed Bingley hanging back a little, so the next ones he made a point of including him, even if it was just as an observer. They sent Adams off ahead, now he was close enough to know the way, so Mrs Reynolds had plenty of warning of their arrival. As always, Pemberley embraced its master and guests with its calming presence. Everything was just better once he was home.

The first full day at Pemberley was very busy, catching up with David Brown, his steward, Groser, the Pemberley butler, and Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper. He also found time to meet briefly with Mr Reynolds, the head gardener but not, as he had hoped, Frank Deadman, the head groom. As this was a learning experience, Bingley accompanied him the entire day, while Adams only joined them when Darcy met with David Brown. After that Adams went off with Steward, to learn more of what he would need to know.

The next day, after conducting the morning's business, Darcy excused himself, leaving Charles to his own entertainment. But Bingley's familiarity with Pemberley meant he was quite capable of that. Riding out of the Pemberley grounds entirely, Darcy headed for Lambton. When he arrived, he went straight to the Lambton Church. Entering the graveyard through a side gate, Wickham's grave was still fresh, too new for a headstone, so marked with a simple wooden cross.

The arrival of Lambton's most illustrious man, was noted by many, but once the inhabitants saw his purpose, they left him to it. After spending a few minutes, head bowed in silent contemplation, Darcy became aware he was not alone. Turning he saw it was the only person who could be considered welcome in the circumstances.

"Good afternoon, Reverend Dawson."

"Good afternoon, Mr Darcy."

Darcy gestured towards Wickham's grave, next to his mother and father. "Thank you for doing this for me. I would have been here if I could."

"I know. How are you? How is the Colonel's recovery?"

"I am fine. The Colonel leg is well on the way. He was exceedingly heartened to know the congregation were all remembering him in their prayers."

"He is well liked by all here, unlike some, who were both liked and disliked with equal intensity." Dawson gestured down at Wickham's plot.

"I know. I knew him far better than most."

"You know, don't you sir, that by rights I could have buried him outside the walls, I gave a funeral based on what your letter said. What was it now? 'Dying during a robbery'."

"It was true, Dawson."

"But was it the truth, Mr Darcy? Don't answer. I am sure it was just with everything else that was happening at the time, you just forgot to mention, Wickham was the thief, and had he not been shot by the militia, he would have been hung. I understand he would have been facing charges of kidnapping, assault and attempted murder as well."

"I won't dispute your facts. I am just surprised the news reached as far as Lambton."

"I have my sources."

"Does it matter? He's now resting in peace."

"Unlike you, I doubt he is at peace. He died a sinner without absolution."

"I am not so sure about that. I was there as he died, less than a foot away. Just before he died, he smiled. I have thought about the reason ever since. I think he found peace with our Lord in his final moments."

"I hope so, Mr Darcy."

"So do I Reverend. But don't you preach the Lord works in mysterious ways?"

"That he does. Anyway, glad to see you back. I'll be in the manse if you need me."

"I'm finished here. If you don't mind me accompanying you, we can talk about the repairs to the roof."

"Certainly, Mr Darcy. After you."

[line]

Bingley and Adams stayed for over two weeks. The time passed quickly, with it being harvest, and teaching Bingley the basics of estate management. Along with the enjoyment, there was a tinge of sadness, as this reminded Darcy of being taught the very same by his father. Sooner than they all realised it was time for Bingley to go. When they left, Darcy rode out with them as far as Lambton, where just north of the village, they parted company.

As much fun as it had been having Bingley stay, Darcy enjoyed the solitude almost as much after he left. Harvest was progressing almost like clockwork, Darcy thought it just proved one of the lessons he had tried to show Charles; estate management was as much about picking the right people for the important positions, ensuring they are given clear and concise instructions and leaving them to get on with it. Then all you had to do is to monitor to see that the work is being done as it should.

This gave Darcy plenty of time to think. While it was not the only thing he thought about, what he could do to expedite his marriage to Elizabeth took the majority of his time. He was certain a Spanish or Italian background would resolve her lack of family connections, and his standing would overcome any reluctance due to her being 'foreign'. It was the corundum posed by Amy Jane that now was the focus of his efforts.

While he was out riding, he realised he'd forgotten one very important task. Riding back, he immediately went up to his mother's apartments. While a number of pieces of jewellery were for Georgiana, and formed part of her dowry, many were family pieces, that will be passed to the next Mrs Darcy. Darcy felt desolate that Elizabeth would not be given them by his mother directly. Darcy fought back tears as he picked up specific items he remembered her wearing. Remember the good times, and there were many. And there will be many more once Elizabeth was here, were she belonged.

Remembering why he had come, Darcy pulled out the drawer of rings, and selected the one he remembered his mother always wore. The one his father gave her when he proposed. Pulling it out, he gave an unnecessary clean before finding a velvet bag for it. Smiling broadly, he placed it in the inside pocket of his coat. As he was pushing the ring drawer shut, he thought of something else, he'd not bought her a Christmas gift. Well, all of these would be hers soon, it wouldn't hurt to give her one early, so he also selected a finely made, if discrete necklace and tucked that into the bag as well. From then, he regularly patted that area, and felt good every time he did so.

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><p>Darcy was starting to think he best return to Ramsgate and Elizabeth, even if he had not resolved the problem with Amy Jane, when he received a letter from Richard with quite surprising news. Richard first berated him for appearing to have abandoned him and Georgiana with Christmas less than a month away. Darcy stopped reading at that point, a bit confused, but yes Richard was right, he registered the change of month to December, but with the days taken up with constant activity when he was not deep in thought, the actual date had slipped him by. He made a mental note to have Groser get everything ready for him to depart in a week.<p>

After reading through an update on Richard's progress, he had made a few tentative steps just recently, and was in raptures about it, Darcy then turned to the second page. Richard wanted to know once Darcy had decided to go to Pemberley, why had he taken the coach, not rode as he usually did, so Elizabeth had to return to Ramsgate, with Amy Jane and a friend called Charlotte, on the stage. What?

This caused Darcy to reconsider his departure date. Darcy was really annoyed now, someone in London had not followed instructions, he'd need to leave as soon as possible to sort it out. The earliest he could go would be the day after tomorrow. Damn! Darcy really would prefer not to have to apologise to Elizabeth as soon as he arrived for someone not following instructions while he was away, but he supposed apologies would be in order. His father always told him, only apologise if it is your fault, and as master, you are responsible for the actions of your servants, but if you, or they, are at fault, then apologise as soon as you can, and mean it.

Decision to depart made, Darcy thought it best take Cicero, rather than Atticus. He won't be in London long enough for his stallion's highstrung ways to be a problem, and the big chestnut stallion had the most amazing stamina. Cicero could go for as long as Darcy could stand being in the saddle, and probably far longer. It would shave a nearly a day, maybe even more off the entire trip. With that in mind he wrote, and sent an express to Ramsgate, to let Richard and Georgiana know of his arrival.

It was on his last day in Derbyshire, while discussing some parish business with the Rector, that the solution to Amy Jane came, as if out of nowhere. But it was so simple, good god, why had he not thought of it sooner. With the final impediment lifted, Darcy was looking forward to, rather than dreading the long ride to London starting tomorrow. All that was needed would be a quick detour to the Lowe's, who lived a few hours south of the Matlock estate, so barely an hour out his way. He went to bed, charged with excitement, happier than he'd been for a long, long time.

Departure from Pemberley had none of the bittersweet quality as previously, Darcy was smiling wildly as he waved goodbye to David Brown, Groser, Mr and Mrs Reynolds, Frank Deadman, along with what seemed like most of the Pemberley staff. They were all assembled to wave farewell, to the master they all greatly respected, and held in high esteem, well apart from the head groom who only had eyes on the horse the rider was departing on.

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><p>.<p>

**This is actually only half of the next chapter, as it has expanded a little in the writing/editing process – the whole scene in the billiard room was an addin that I thought needed to be there, but was not in the original intention for this chapter. Thus the need to split this chapter in two, The next half should be up soon, but might be shorter than normal. However I do promise you the chapter following that will be the end of Part 2.**

**.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen**


	32. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 20

**Part 2: Relatives, Chapter 20**

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><p>Charlotte adapted to her role as nurse very easily. She found the Colonel to be a pleasant man, as Elizabeth had described him, and the cousin, Georgiana a delight. Neither showed any indication of the pride or arrogance of their cousin or brother, Mr Darcy. In fact they both made her feel very welcome. Mrs Carter was also very hospitable and Charlotte knew that she would enjoy the time in Ramsgate and not miss home all that much over Christmas, as the plan was to stay at least a month, if not more.<p>

After only a few days, Charlotte and Georgiana were on first name terms, and although he requested it, she still did not feel comfortable calling Colonel Fitzwilliams, Richard. She did agree to a compromise after they explained that Fitzwilliam was also Mr Darcy's first name. Apparently the firstborn boy's first name was his mother's maiden name, thus Mr Darcy was Fitzwilliam and the deceased Mr Darcy was Blake. So she called him just Colonel or Colonel Richard.

She and Elizabeth spent a good deal of each day at the Darcy house assisting with the Colonel's care, although that was mostly, as Elizabeth described it, occupying the mind of the patient so they don't try to occupy their body too much, and cause further damage. When they weren't, they spent the time together, catching up since they last met, which was at Jane's last birthday.

Some of the time they spent together was out socialising, meeting a few of Elizabeth's friends. It was interesting meeting those described in the letters that Charlotte had read. She was extremely pleased to finally meet Mr Hawke, although she found him rather intimidating, as he loomed over her. This left her nervous, which caused the departure of her usual lively conversation and ready wit. He must think me very dull, and a disappointment in real life from the person Elizabeth would have described from their letters.

But Charlotte had always harboured an irrational fear of large men even as a child, and after her disastrous London season, somehow the phobia expanded to include handsome or charming men as well. While Mr Hawke, and a number of other of Elizabeth's friends triggered this reaction, thankfully the Colonel didn't. Although he was not small, he did not loom. While no one would describe him as handsome, the scar did give him a little piratical charm. And his manner was of a self-depreciating, disarming sort, so while appealing, it was not that of a 'charmer'.

While Charlotte had expected to be helping look after a bedridden patient, the Colonel was up and about for a few steps at a time by the time she and Elizabeth arrived, shaken to their bones, by their trip on the stage from London. Charlotte was worried that maybe he was pushing himself too hard, from the grimaces of pain that crossed his face when he made even the most tentative steps, but she admired his determination. What she would give to be able to push herself like that.

Yet Charlotte found it very difficult to watch him wince or hear him snaffle a cry of pain, and tried to avoid being in the room at those times Colonel Richard chose to exercise his leg. But fate had conspired against her in some ways, as she and the Colonel's ever present batman, Sergeant O'Connor were both the same height, which was just right to fit under Colonel Richard's arms, so she took the maid's place, as none of the Darcy maids were of a matching height. Thankfully the Sergeant always took the injured side, so took the full weight of his officer, her only role was to steady him as he moved his other leg. Even still it was a lot more proximity to a (almost) healthy man than she had experienced before, so it took nearly a week before she stopped blushing every time she was asked to assist. To her chagrin, Elizabeth found the whole situation hilarious, which did not help with her blushes, at all! It was made easier, as over the next week, Elizabeth accompanied Charlotte less often to the Darcy household.

It was about the time her blushes finally ceased, when the Colonel received an express from Mr Darcy, informing him that Mr Darcy would be expected this Friday. Apparently, he felt the need to inform the Colonel that he could be delayed, as he had to get to the bottom of the coaching debacle, which might take up to a day to resolve. Charlotte was becoming intrigued to meet this black-hearted villain, if only to see why Elizabeth's portrait so differed from picture painted by the few comments that the Colonel or Georgiana had made.

When Charlotte related this information to her friend, Elizabeth asked for a favour. She explained that she had found it increasingly difficult to be in the same house as Mr Darcy, that final coach trip was the last straw. The favour, and in many ways the reason why Charlotte had been asked to accompany Elizabeth back to Ramsgate, was to be a substitute carer for Richard, as she still felt obliged to see his care through to his recovery, she had promised to do so, but could not face being in the house with Mr Darcy. But she assured Charlotte, if she did not feel comfortable in caring for him alone, she could overcome her fears, and as long as Charlotte came with her fairly often, would be all right to fulfil her promise to Richard.

Charlotte always wondered if this was the case, and so was not unprepared for the request, and saw no reason why going without Elizabeth would be problematical. Charlotte did suggest that Elizabeth not cease visiting outright, but only do so infrequently, and maybe invite Georgiana to Mrs Carters instead now the patient is mobile. She also felt it best that they give a plausible reason for this change in schedule, and a good part of the evening was spent devising one.

So the plan was enacted the next day, Elizabeth only accompanied Charlotte to the Darcy house. Once there Elizabeth explained to the Colonel that she had been feeling guilty about neglecting all her other friends, having gone to London. Now that he was well on the way to a full recovery, she would have to leave most of the nursing to her friend Charlotte, while she caught up with her other social obligations. This provoked many apologies from Georgiana, and even a few from the Colonel. Elizabeth explained she had chosen to be there for the Colonel, and they were in no way at fault, but it took some effort to reassure Georgiana.

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><p>Charlotte was again helping Colonel Richard walk a few steps when there was a clatter of hooves from the yard. Hearing this they decided, as it was likely to be Mr Darcy, best to turn the Colonel around and get him back into bed. But this was not a fast process, so Charlotte heard Mr Darcy enter the room while she was still facing away from the door assisting the patient to get his wounded leg into bed. Bloody typical, thought Charlotte, Mr Darcy turns up while I'm half bent over with my derriere pointing towards him.<p>

"Richard, Sergeant, and…?"

"Welcome Darcy. May I introduce Miss Charlotte Lucas to you. Miss Lucas, Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy, Miss Lucas."

Thankfully she had managed to get the Colonel's leg on the bed, and left Sergeant O'Connor to finish. Charlotte changed her turn into a curtsy, and saw the shadow of the man in front of her make a leg. Then Charlotte looked up. Oh lord! Mr Darcy was here, standing right in front of her. For some reason Charlotte had imagined him as similar to the Colonel, but, my God, how wrong she had been. He was tall, nearly as tall as Mr Hawke. And handsome, ever so handsome. This was the closest she felt like swooning, since, well… when she actually did all those years ago in London. Charlotte put her hand out to steady herself on the bed, and had to look at the floor. Charlotte was sure that she was bright red, and that just made her more embarrassed.

The cousins had said something to each other, and Charlotte became aware that HE was speaking to her.

"…well?"

Now what do I say? Is he asking about me, the patient, maybe even Elizabeth or Amy Jane?

"Thank you. Mr Darcy." Why did I say that? It just made Charlotte feel more nervous and flustered. Hating to think what expression was on his face, Charlotte continued to stare at the floor.

"You're welcome, Miss Lucas. How have you found Ramsgate?"

What she thought was; fine, have not seen much of it, great seeing Lizzie, enjoying it, never seen the sea before. What actually came out was, "Fine, not much of it, Lizzie, enjoying, the sea before."

Charlotte wanted to die. This really was London all over again. Oh no, he was replying.

"I suppose the sea is very interesting to those that have been to the seaside before. I still find its boundless size to be awe-inspiring. Don't you?"

Charlotte felt relief, a question she could answer. "Yes."

"I suppose you must be quite busy here. I won't disturb you further. Richard, I'll be back in a few minutes." With that, to Charlotte's relief, Mr Darcy left the room.

Well, that was only a disaster, not a complete disaster. How she wished she could compose herself around gentlemen like Mr Darcy. She supposed when, or should she now say if, she got married, it would have to be a short plain man, lacking in charm, otherwise they'd never have a sensible conversation. Still flustered, she made her excuses and fled the room, while her dignity was still only in tatters, not completely shredded, as it would be if she were still there when Mr Darcy got back.

Charlotte went downstairs and worked her way through the temporary confusion that Mr Darcy's arrival provoked. There were servants going hither and yon. Why they waited until the last minute to prepare for his arrival, she could not understand. It would not be like this at Lucas Lodge. Maybe she should talk to Georgiana about giving the housekeeper, Mrs Pennywise, some guidance. Charlotte did wonder how she should broach the subject politely as she headed to the music room, where she could hear Georgiana practicing. Charlotte got as far as the door before thinking better of it, she'd talk to Elizabeth about it first, as she must have noticed, and may have said something already. Best not to stir a hornet's nest unnecessarily, and Elizabeth would know if that had been the case. In the end Charlotte left Georgiana to her Mozart, and turned to leave.

As Charlotte reached the front door, and was putting on her cape, she realised she had left her reticule in Richard's room. She was about to abandon it for the day, it would still be there in the morning, but she remembered that Jane's latest letter was in it, and would need it if she was going to reply today. Alright, she could just pop up and collect it. Mr Darcy would not be there, or would he? Charlotte stood in the front hall torn between her desire to get Jane's letter and the mortification of meeting Mr Darcy again. Don't be silly Charlotte, she thought, Richard would not let this stop him! So screwing up her courage she hurried upstairs, hoping that Mr Darcy was one of those men that took a great deal of care in his appearance. From what Elizabeth had said about his overwhelming pride, Charlotte would not be surprised if he was still in his room, on his third cravat, getting it just so.

As she approached the Colonel's room, she heard voices. She hoped that this was the Colonel talking with his batman, but just in case it wasn't, she slowed and tiptoed closer. Just out of sight of the room, she stopped and listened, trying to catch whose voices she was hearing. The first words she heard was identifiably Richard. He was asking a question. Then reply came. The voice was deep, cultured, too refined to be anything but Mr Darcy. Damn! So he wasn't that fastidious with his attire after all. Charlotte was about to abandon Jane's letter, when she heard her name. Knowing full well that eavesdropping was the height of rudeness, she was too curious about what they could be saying about her to leave.

"...friend Miss Lucas?"

"Yes, Darcy. I think she found your precipitate entrance disconcerting."

"Are you sure?"

"You weren't looking at the end I was, Darcy. This end was a very bright red, rather charming really. How attractive did you find the end facing you?"

Oh no, they were talking about her being in such an embarrassing position when he first arrived. She felt her cheeks flare red again. Oh God, he's going to be crude. I should leave. But of course, she didn't, she needed to hear what Mr Darcy thought of her. Here we go…

"Don't be crude Richard. That was uncalled for."

"Sorry Darcy."

"Apology accepted. She appears to be a genteel lady, and deserves better than that."

Well that was not what Charlotte had expected Mr Darcy to say. Intrigued, she snuck a little closer.

"She been helping Elizabeth care for me for a fortnight or so. I don't think you caught Miss Lucas at her best. She is usually more eloquent."

"It didn't help that I surprised her. Actually, she reminds me a little of Georgie. A bit shy, and gets flustered when meeting new people. But listen carefully and you can usually understand what they are trying to say."

"Well you always had more patience than I. Speaking of which, I'm getting heartily sick of lying here."

"But you were walking when I came in."

"Yes, but I can't do it for more than maybe half a dozen steps at most. Takes too much out of me. But I'm glad you are here, Darcy. Oh, while I think of it, did you bring anything from my father?"

"Sorry, I clean forgot. I best go get it."

Charlotte realised she best not get caught eavesdropping, so hurried off.

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><p>Charlotte's next meeting with Mr Darcy was much less embarrassing, but she still found it hard. She spent a great deal of the time either admiring the pattern of wear in the bedside mat and speaking almost coherently or, being polite and looking at her conversational partner and sounding more like an escapee from Bedlam. But true to his words to Colonel Richard, he listened carefully when she was incoherent, and was both patient and kind in his responses. So she was able to muddle through.<p>

When Charlotte brought up this discrepancy between his behaviour to her and what Elizabeth said he was like, Elizabeth could only say that her treatment must be due to Charlotte being the daughter of Sir William Lucas, and he must choose to be more agreeable to ladies he saw as being his equal. Charlotte thought, from what she had overheard, that Elizabeth might be reading more into his behaviour than was warranted. Seeing malice and callousness, where it was just arrogance and carelessness. This caused rare argument between them, which surprised Charlotte a little. Elizabeth was completely intractable about Mr Darcy, which did make Charlotte a little suspicious of the reasons for it. But it was a silly squabble. So Charlotte ended it quickly, appearing to concede to Elizabeth. But in reality, choosing to keep her own council on the matter.

Charlotte did wonder quite what was going on, as Mr Darcy seemed disappointed every time he asked where Elizabeth was, if she hadn't accompanied Charlotte. And when Elizabeth did come with her, Mr Darcy did spend an extraordinary amount of time looking at Elizabeth. Charlotte couldn't see it as him looking to find fault, it could almost be admiring, but she thought that to be too silly for words, and knowing Elizabeth's view on it, so chose not to mention it to her at all.

When Christmas was less than a week away, Charlotte was pleased to see how much the Colonel had improved over the last few weeks, as he now was able to almost cross the room on his still healing leg. She also noticed another thing. Even with the strain the Colonel was putting on himself, exercising his leg, he was still pleasant and courteous. Mr Darcy, on the hand, over the same period became less and less polite, and much shorter of temper. So she started to see what her friend had been saying. When, in that last week before Christmas, he started almost demanding to know if Elizabeth was here, and if not, was she at home, either today or tomorrow. Knowing Elizabeth's concerns about his possible intentions, and his most recent less than pleasant demeanour, Charlotte always said that Elizabeth was visiting friends, whether that was true or not.

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><p>Elizabeth was seated, quietly reading in the parlour on Boxing Day, Charlotte having taken Amy Jane to the Darcy's at Georgiana's request this morning. Although her letter asked for all three of them, Elizabeth cried off, and asked for Charlotte to tell them that she had a headache, as she was not feeling up to another day of Mr Darcy's judgemental glares. Elizabeth imagined that Miss Darcy is likely to have bought a present for her daughter, and had not been able to give it to her in the weeks leading up to Christmas, as Elizabeth had deliberately not taken her to the Darcy house since Mr Darcy's return. While she was sure it was not expected, Elizabeth wished that her finances would have allowed her to buy a present in return, but her limited funds had been sadly depleted by the shops in London, so full of things unavailable here in Ramsgate. But then she smiled, thinking of how most of her purchases had gone to her local friends as Christmas gifts, and the joy they would have given when they opened them yesterday.<p>

Elizabeth wondered how Amy Jane was doing with her Aunty Charlotte, as this was the first time she had gone without her. She thought maybe she was being a little silly about avoiding Mr Darcy, and was trying to decide whether to go after all, when she was disturbed by the sound of Mrs Carter answering the front door. While she heard the voices, they were too indistinct due to the parlour door being closed to keep the heat in. She sat up, thinking it should be Charlotte back with Amy Jane, so she'd get to see if her guess of a present for her was correct. Thus Elizabeth was certain she'd need to be braced for the arrival of her excited young daughter.

But, to her utter amazement, it was Mr. Darcy that walked into the room, alone! In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, closed the door and proceeded to walk about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

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><p>.<p>

**A suggestion from one of the reviewers (you'll know who you are) made me rethink how Charles has reacted after endinig his courtship of Jane. The discussion with them to expand their suggestion has led me to think the following would be a more likely response by Charles:**

_Darcy returns to London to find Charles sleeping in late, going through the motions of life with a 'don't know, don't care' response to any direct question. Just soldiering on, with just a constant level of wistful sighing... As Darcy knows Charles well, he recognizes this is very out of character, and decides to 'cheer him up'. _

_So Darcy arranges to drag Bingley to frantic rounds of entertainment - balls, assemblies, evenings at the opera, etc. to 'buck him up' All the entertainment would do is enable Bingley to continue comparing would-be 'angels' to Jane... This showcases how badly he was taking it at the time (as is Jane). Caroline would obviously be in attendance then (anywhere Darcy is around and taking Charles out!), as would Lady Sophie and Miss Trent - and probably the snide and catty comments would flow... _

_Darcy will question Caroline about Jane's motives - Caroline first goes "trust me I know because I am a woman, and women know these things", but Darcy would not accept that, so Caroline has to lie - in case Darcy recommends Charles continue with Jane, so invests some gossip to reinforce her case - the readers will immediately know is untrue (a bit like her letter to Jane on leaving Netherfield). Darcy would take Caroline's view at face value, as she met Jane, he didn't._

_When the balls, etc. doesn't work (as expected) Darcy then drags him off to Pemberley on the assumption that a change of scene, away from society would work when complete emersion did not. _

_This also allows Darcy to contrast Elizabeth (or his idealised view of her, he really hasn't 'discovered' the real Elizabeth, but only because he hasn't bothered to look) against Caroline and Miss Trent who should be catty to each other, while being charming to him - the hypocrisy of that would be a real turn off to Darcy - thus precipitating Darcy's desire to marry Elizabeth now, rather than wait unit Georgiana weds. Thus his flights of fantasy with the Spanish/Italian history and whatever he has planned for Amy Jane, rather than just wait out the time. _

**I would be very interested in your view on this alteration to the story. It will also give you something to think about while I write the next chapter – given the lead in sentence, you all know what's about to happen – and I need to get it right. The whole of Part 3 depends on this next bit. **

**.**

**I've created a forum topic, as you can only post 1 review per chapter, which will limit discussion. If you don't want to participate in a public forum, feel free to PM me instead.**

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**The forum is here: .net/topic/93273/55664884/1/**

**.**

**I am thinking I might just rewrite Part 2, Chapter 19 and post it as a separate chapter(s), after this next one, but before Part 3 starts.**

**.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen**


	33. Part 2, Relatives: Chapter 21

**Part 2: Relatives, Chapter 21**

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><p>"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you…"<p>

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and listened in stunned silence while he ploughed on, oblivious to her shock and mortification.

"In declaring myself thus I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the norms of society, the wishes of my family, my friends and, I hardly need add, my own better judgement. Your fallen condition is such a disgrace that any alliance between us must be regarded as a highly reprehensible. Indeed, as a rational man I cannot but regard it as such myself, but it cannot be helped. Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard which, despite all my struggles, has overcome every rational objection I had to the course of my own thoughts."

Elizabeth was still trying to work out what Mr Darcy was saying. Here it goes, the 'I love you, but can't you see that marriage is not possible, but I can provide for you in other ways, etcetera, etcetera' speech. So her wish to avoid him, to prevent him making an improper suggestion was valid. She felt vindicated, this will prove to Charlotte what I have said all along, she cannot dispute this now.

Elizabeth started to grow angry as she realised how blatant he was going about making the offer of carte-blanche, and his own disgust at his feelings for her, that was certainly new, but no more than the arrogance she expected from him. Her thoughts meant she missed the a little of what he had just said as, rather than waiting her reply, Mr Darcy took her silence as tacit agreement and continued.

"…may not replace your lover's, that is the lover that was your daughters father, your past lover's place in your heart, but I hope, that in not much time you will find a greater love for me there."

My lover? Who is this 'lover' he is referring to? The Viscount! And then he feels he has to clarify it, in case I didn't know which one. It is like he thinks I have had several lovers! Elizabeth looked up with an intense glare, about to interrupt this incredible insult, heaped on top of his first, when she realised that he had not finished, in fact he appeared only to have just started…

"Thus we come to the two main problems that I had to address prior to this declaration…"

Problems? Elizabeth knew of no problems she would want him to fix. Aghast, Elizabeth sat there letting him continue, any angry retort she had been about to say died, if only to find out what on earth he was on about.

"It must be obvious you'd need to conceal your past, to prevent the possibility of you embarrassing me, and the mortification it would cause yourself, so I gave this much consideration prior to presenting my offer. I am certain it'd be best if you portray yourself as an émigré, one that has lost their entire family in the troubles. Your skill with Latin would make Spanish or Italian the most obvious choice. It would mean ceasing any remaining contact you have with your family, but I doubt there is much now, nor could it be a great loss."

Good heavens, had the man just escaped from Bedlam? Elizabeth tried to work out why he wanted his mistress to pretend to be a foreigner and, more importantly, give up Jane. I suppose he assumed that her entire family would have disowned her, and if not now, they would once she accepted his offer. As if Jane would do so, even if she did become some gentleman's mistress, he must be judging from what he'd do. He took a breath. Elizabeth thought 'Here we go. Problem number two.' She had been astounded with what he had said, and thought it almost incomprehensible, that he could top it. But truly, Mr Darcy had saved the 'best' for last…

"As for the last consideration, Amy Jane, I have arranged for the Lowe's, a childless couple, but very nice - I am sure you'd like them - as I was saying, I have arranged for them to raise your daughter, and they are more than happy to do so. They assured me they'd treat her very much as their own. She's young enough that she would not remember that she is only a natural child, and could have a fair prospect in later life as a result. In any case, the Lowe's are only half a day's travel, on good roads, so I could go to confirm her care, if you so wish it."

Elizabeth was overwhelmed. If the headache was just an excuse before, it wasn't now. Head down, frowning with the pain, and trying to take in the entirety of what Mr Darcy had just said to her, she nearly missed his last…

"…problems solved, and having overcome the main impediments to our alliance, I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife."

She had thought he could no longer surprise, but marriage? This was a proposal of marriage? Not carte-blanche? At this Elizabeth looked up shaking her head in disbelief. Mr Darcy stood there, looking as proud and as arrogant as ever. She could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He had spoken initially of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. In such a circumstance, it could only exasperate her further when he felt she had obviously failed to reply the affirmative in a suitable amount of time, and said. "Well?"

This was the last straw, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said, "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is expected that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel any gratitude, I would thank you. But I cannot, and will not. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned suffering to anyone, as I, of all people, know suffering well. However I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, as you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, mean you will find little difficulty in overcoming them after my refusal."

Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was, to Elizabeth's feelings, dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of little importance."

"I might as well inquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you - had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who is so arrogant he proposes marriage with so little regard or understanding of me and my daughter's struggles?"

"And this," cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, "is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. But perhaps," added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, "these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the disgrace of your situation? Or be proud of your actions that must have led to it?"

Elizabeth felt herself growing ever more angry, yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure with her reply to him:

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. Your hypocrisy is unbounded! You talk of abhorring disguise of every sort, and yet that is what you wish on me, for the rest of my natural life!"

He must have felt a flash of anger but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued:

"Even without this provocation, I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. And it not just for your insults to me, which in your ignorance and conceit I could have possibly overlooked, but can you deny your role in separating my sister from your friend?"

Mr Darcy looked back at her with incredulity. He must not know who Jane was.

"Yes, your friend Mr Bingley was courting my sister, Miss Jane Bennet. Yes, it is true. So now you know who my family is. Did you not separate them? No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. Did you not tell Richard that you realised that it was a one sided affair, with much regard in one direction, but little or none in the other, so it was easy to have Mr Bingley jilt my sister as he had no real regard for her, leaving her heart shattered."

She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity, as if her objection had no merit, as he replied.

"I have done no such thing. I was asked for advice and I gave it. Bingley wanted to know what he should he do if the lady he had the greatest affection for proved to have no regard for him and was acting only on mercenary motives. In this, my advice to walk away was natural and just. I know not the way her guard slipped, but Charles became aware of it, and his sisters confirmed it. Whatever version she gave you, and how much regard she said she had for him, that can not be the case. It must have been that her attachment to the man she truly desired became apparent, opening my friends eyes, just in time. And this betrayal still causes him to suffer. It would have been best for him had she been honest that her heart was given to another when they first met."

"What?" Elizabeth blurted out, full of indignation. "Listen to yourself. You say for her to have been more honest about her affections, from a man that has kept mistresses or spends the night with women that have no choice but to except unwanted attentions!"

Mr Darcy was about to speak in his defence, but Elizabeth knew there could be nothing he could say to excuse his behaviour, so held up her had to stop him. She had to listen through his litany of insults, so it was his turn to do the same.

"Do not deny it! I know it for a fact! Your cousin confirmed the existence the former to her friend Miss Trent, and as for the latter, you did it in my very presence. I see that incredulous stare, but I saw how you and that serving maid carried on that night in the inn on the way to London, and heard all your activity afterwards, as well. Then you had the temerity to apologise the next morning!"

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><p>Darcy was initially pacing, but now he just stood there, while she spoke, not with regard and admiration returned, but with the passion of anger. She disliked him? Jane Bennet was her sister? Her sister! His Elizabeth was the scandal in Miss Bennet's past? But as Darcy stood silently through her reply, there was growing realisation that she was not his Elizabeth, nor was there any chance of it. She blamed him for Charles desertion? But Charles found out she had no regard for him and was acting from purely mercenary motives. Didn't he?<p>

He was growing more and more confused, with all the accusations she was making, none of which he could identify in his character, when he heard she thought him immoral and licentious? He was about to put her right about that at least when Elizabeth held up her hand again.

"No, you will be silent. I sat and listened through all of your insults. Now it is time for you to hear how those that are not dependent on your goodwill feel about you. You state your admiration grew from almost the first moment you met me, but can't you remember how you ended that first meeting? No? Maybe? Well, let me remind you. Did you not realise I heard you clearly call me a fallen woman and entirely unsuitable for your sister to know, and then dragging her away. Remember now?"

"So from that very beginning - from the first moment, may I say - of my acquaintance, your manners have impressed me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others and condescension to those you feel beneath you, are such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike to make no avowal of regard or admiration overcome them. But that is not the worst of it."

In a voice dripping with contempt Elizabeth continued. "You pride yourself on being a gentleman, and you suggest I have had a lover or several, one of which is Amy Jane's father. Yet it was a gentleman that ripped my virtue from me. All you gentlemen are alike, so it could be any of you. But this one you know well, your cousin, the one you see as a mentor and take after."

As soon as she mentioned his cousin, Darcy thought 'What Richard? Is that why they were much more friendly? But Richard would not. No, she was mistaken. But Amy Jane is about five so that…" But his thoughts in this direction were cut off with what she said next.

"The irony is her father is your mentor, Viscount Sumerville."

Disbelief over the possibility of it being Richard turned to certainty as Darcy knew that Sumerville was capable of anything. Especially ruining women. So she was seduced when she was very young as he thought. And Sumerville would have denied it, as was his manner.

"Before you think worse of me, I made a mistake in meeting him alone, but that was my only mistake. I did not ask to be made insensible by a few glasses of champagne, then to have my awareness return to find I was naked and violated, completely alone. My whole life ruined so your cousin could win a wager. Were you party to it? Were you one of the ones watching from the bushes to confirm the deed? Did you walk off while his man cleaned up the blood, got me dressed and took me home?"

Rendered senseless! Ruined a gentle woman over a wager? I'll kill him! Darcy had never felt such anger as he did now. Even Wickham at his worst had not provoked such rage, he would not have actually ruined Georgiana, as much as he threatened to, it was, as always with Wickham, about the money. But Sumerville, would have positively enjoyed ruining her. His anger over his cousin's actions and that she thought he was like in any way, that meant he missed her next few words, but it was not like he could ask her to repeat it.

"…only the once. But once was enough to quicken Amy Jane. So there has been no lovers, not one. My daughter was not conceived in love, but I have made up for it every day since, it is my guiding principle. But you know nothing of love, even though you profess it."

She paused just long enough for him to start to speak before interrupting him before he could actually say anything.

"You thought you offered me a way back to respectability, a means to get back what you think I want from my life. But you could not be more wrong. That was the final insult. Without my daughter, my life would not be worth living. That is love. You will learn, if you ever get married. Give up my daughter? For someone like you? I'd not give her up if you could offer me the whole world. I'd not give her up even if I did feel more love for you than your cold, cold heart could ever feel."

He saw her pause only long enough this time to draw herself up and stand. She stood too close to him and he saw the anger in her eyes. Darcy stepped back and away.

"You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it. And still you did it in a way that only shows your pride, your selfishness and arrogance and a lack of gentlemanly conduct and heartlessness I have come to expect from you. I pity your sister, I really do. And, actually I no longer feel anything but pity for you. It must be such a cold world you live in that you think giving up a child is a decision anyone can make. Please leave."

Darcy had to keep stepping back as Elizabeth advanced on him, but with her final words she seemed to collapse in on herself. He wanted to correct her, with so many things she didn't understand, or believed about him that were wrong, but did it matter? His dreams had collapsed in front of him, but what could he do, or say about it? He could only accede to her request and leave.

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

Darcy felt like he was slinking away with his tail between his legs. What hurt the most, well, actually all of it hurt. But what hurt the most, no actually the death of his dream, he knew she was the one, there would be no other, and he now saw no marriage, no family, it would be Georgiana that provide the Pemberley heir, that was what truly hurt the most. But, her false assassination of his character, that still hurt, and it was something he could, just might, be able to correct.

As he got to the door, he turned one last time to see his, not he can no longer think of Elizabeth Smith, no Bennet as his, he saw her on the same chair she had been on when he had first arrived, so full of hope. But this time she was not looking up in anticipation, but slumped, hunched over, with her back purposely facing directly the door he was standing in.

In a quiet voice, almost as much for himself as for her, he said softy. "I know I cannot say anything that you would believe regarding my conduct, but please, for your sake, as much as mine, ask Richard or Georgiana about my conduct compared to Sumerville's. We are not all like him…"

Darcy turned, and slumped over in defeat, almost a mirror in posture of the lady he left behind he turned and left the house, after saying one last comment. "Goodbye and God bless."

* * *

><p><strong>So what did you all think? Can you spot the bits from the 'real' Hunsford proposal? <strong>

**Did you think I got any of it wrong, too much, not enough? I would be very interested in your views – and I need to get it right. The whole of Part 3 depends on this bit. I've created a forum topic, as you can only post 1 review per chapter, which will limit discussion. If you don't want to participate in a public forum, feel free to PM me instead.**

**The forum is here: fanfiction . net /topic/93273/55664884/1/ **(but this is not working at the moment - see below)**  
><strong>

**I am still thinking I might rewrite Part 2, Chapter 19 and post it as a separate chapter(s), after this one, before I start Part 3, but I might just leave it until I've finished. Not so sure now.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen**

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As of mid-Jan 2012 my forum does not allow me to add new posts or reply to posts - which is very frustrating as there are discussions on a few plot elements and whether to edit Part 2 Chapter 19 or not, and if I do, what Charles' response should be. I have sent several emails to the site's support but with no reply, or having it fixed. Particularly to **HansQ** or **encayce** I am not ignoring the questions in your posts - I'd like to reply but can't. If you read this, maybe PM me instead.

.

P.S. For those that are wondering where the first chapter of Part 3 is - I am suffering from a excess of real life at the moment, but hope that I'll get a chance to have a few evenings free each to write from February on.


	34. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 1

**Apologies to all those I've made wait for this – I'm suffering from an excess of life at the moment, which is making finding the time to write difficult. I hope that by mid-February it will be less hectic, but bear with me until then. **

**Regards,**

**Stephen  
><strong>

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><p>.<p>

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**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 1**

Richard was luxuriating in sitting downstairs, his legs happily under a rug, as he was stretched out on the chaise lounge in the library. Charlotte was, as usual, sitting across from him, with that slight worried smile of hers, engaged in altering the hem of yet another of Amy Jane's dresses, in what seemed like an endless task, as she was growing so fast. Now thinking of the young girl, Richard looked through the open doors to the music room where he could see the rapt face of Amy Jane, looking up at Georgiana alongside her. Georgiana was leaning forward, as if braced against the music that was flowing, full force, from the piano, as the crescendo of the Mozart sonata filled the whole lower floor of the house, when there was a counter point crash as the back door blew open.

There was a muffled, "Damn!" then "Sorry, Mrs Pennywise. My apologies." Before the sound of booted feet could be heard stomping (stomping?) through the rear hall. They all looked towards the main hall, expecting to see Darcy come through the library door. Even Georgiana had stopped playing. But the footfalls continued past the library without stopping.

"Is that you Darcy?" Richard cried out.

"Not now Richard... Please." It definitely sounded like Darcy had walked past the library door and was already at the stairs.

"What is it Darcy?"

"I said not now!" Boy, Darcy sounded really annoyed, best leave him be. Richard looked over at Charlotte, who shrugged in return. After a few moments, when it because obvious that Darcy was bounding up the stairs with great speed, they all resumed what they had been doing, although Georgiana started a more soothing tune. After listening for a few minutes, Richard guessed it to be Bach sonata, but his musical knowledge was limited, so it could be anyone. Charlotte was also listening intensely, and he wondered whether to ask her who it could be when the sound of someone, most likely Darcy, heavy boot falls pounded down the stairs.

Again this caused activity at the piano to cease. Richard saw Georgiana turn towards him this time. He wondered why Darcy had not at least popped his head around the door on the way past. This causal rudeness was very uncharacteristic of Darcy, particularly as it sounded as he was heading pass the library again.

"Darcy?" Richard called out from where he was sitting. Damn this leg, had he been fit, he'd have followed him.

"Not now! I'm going out." Richard was puzzled. Out? Out where? He had barely returned.

"Sorry to bother you, Darcy. Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" Darcy yelled back, from what was likely to be the back passage to the kitchens.

Well, thought Richard, that was the most unconvincing reassurance he'd heard for a while. Hoping to get a bit more information, yelled in return, "See you when you get back."

"Bye…" That last was fairly muffled by distance. Darcy had not stopped striding through the house the entire time. There was the thump of boots on the kitchen tiles (he must be running to hear that from here), followed by the back door being closed forcefully. In the silence, Richard could discern Darcy was yelling something, to someone, but not what it was. But it all became clear not long after, with the clatter of hooves of a horse being ridden out of the stables and into the lane.

Richard wondered where Darcy could be going. It can't have been far, he'd barely had time to change into riding boots, let alone proper riding attire, precluding any distance. Never mind, Richard was sure he'd find out this evening. So he returned to what he had been doing before, daydreaming, about nothing in particular, enjoying the company of pretty ladies and listening to Georgiana play. Although for some reason her brother's moodiness had affected her, so it was now something brooding. Beethoven?

* * *

><p>Knowing that Elizabeth was alone by herself, pretending to have a headache, Charlotte made her and Amy Jane's excuses after spending less time than normal, to maintain the pretence. Having bundled Amy Jane up in the layers needed due to the winter weather, Charlotte was mostly through donning her winter attire when Mr Darcy burst through back door again, into the kitchen. He seemed very intent on something, so Charlotte didn't mind him not noticing them. Probably wanted to change into something warm as soon as possible as he looked soaked through. Must have been riding the entire time, thought Charlotte, as she walked out into the light rain, as it was not raining that hard.<p>

Amy Jane chatted happily as they walked home. Charlotte was always amazed at how cheerful and full of wonder with the commonplace or ordinary things Amy Jane was. She recognised her young self in Amy Jane and wondered when and how she had lost her own delight in the world. Amy Jane could be filled with glee just by splashing about in puddles. Charlotte supposed her mother didn't allow her to do this, but it was one of the indulgences she could do as being an 'Aunt'.

Yet there was a bittersweet quality to spending time with Amy Jane. She was unlikely now to ever experience the joys of having a child of her own. Her position on the shelf became more and more permanent with each passing year. She was even unlikely to get it second-hand through her brother George. They had never really gotten on, ever since he was out of short pants, and now it was soon expected he'd officially declare he was courting Harriet Long, it was even less likely that she'd be asked to live with them once the formalities were conclude and they married. Charlotte realised she'd stopped and been woolgathering when Amy Jane tugged her hand to hurry her along. Apologising, she paid specific attention to Amy Jane the rest of the way home.

Mrs Carter greeted them warmly as she opened the door. Charlotte wondered why Elizabeth hadn't come to the front door instead, but supposed she was just being cautious, in case Georgiana had accompanied them as far as their door.

"Ah Mrs Carter, here we are safe and sound."

"Granny Carter!" Mrs Carter looked over as Amy Jane hugged her middle.

"Not too cold for her Charlotte?"

"No. The rain is now only a drizzle. Amy Jane was well bundled up as you can see."

Mrs Carter bent down and helped take off all the layers Amy Jane had just put on only minutes ago. "Well, little lady, your mother is upstairs with a headache, how about you come in to the kitchen with me, where it is warm?"

"But… mummy?"

"All she needs is a bit of peace and quiet. And she won't get it with you around. On you come. I think I can find some warm milk and Christmas biscuits. Would you want that?"

"Oh yes please!"

Mrs Carter led Amy Jane towards the kitchen but gestured with her head upstairs, as Charlotte, having gotten out of her own winter things, had started towards the parlour where she expected her friend to be. In her room upstairs? That was taking the pretence a bit too far. Charlotte hoped that Elizabeth had not been bored waiting, just on the off chance that Georgiana had accompanied them.

As Charlotte entered the room her witticism about thinking through every detail of the excuse died on her lips, Elizabeth was lying, curled up on herself, asleep on top of the bed, her shoes discarded causally on the floor and a number of letters from Jane (several months worth at least) piled haphazardly on the side table. Charlotte briefly tidied letters then lifted the comforter off the chair and draped it over her friend. She rested her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder for a bit before she turned to go downstairs to help Mrs Carter with Amy Jane.

Before she had quite closed the door Elizabeth spoke softly "Charlotte?"

Charlotte re-entered the room "Yes Elizabeth."

"How is Amy Jane?"

"She is fine. Downstairs being spoilt by Mrs Carter."

"Oh." There was a pause. Elizabeth looked like she was getting ready to get up.

"Don't bother yourself. Stay here and rest. Did your headache turn into a real one?"

"It was something like that. Oh Charlotte! You won't believe what…" At that Elizabeth blushed furiously and cut off whatever it was she was going to say.

"Won't believe what?" Charlotte was intrigued.

"Never mind. It was nothing." The blush had gone, replaced with a very pale face.

"You know that won't do. But you do look pale. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No. Send Amy Jane up will you?"

"Sorry Elizabeth, she's a little excitable at the moment and you look like you need the rest. I'll come up later to check on you, and I'll bring her up then."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Get some rest now."

"Thank you Charlotte."

"Don't mention it. Rest now."

Charlotte watched Elizabeth turn over, and stayed, watching until her breathing had the calm and regular rhythm of someone asleep. As Charlotte closed the door properly this time and went downstairs, she wondered what had happened. Why the blush? There was no point trying to force a confidence, Elizabeth would only tell in her own good time.

* * *

><p>Darcy realised as he entered reached the stairs that he had been terribly rude, ignoring Miss Lucas and Amy Jane. Regardless of how preoccupied he was, there was no excuse for it. But, by the time he made it back to the kitchen, they had left. He stood at the back door for a moment wondering whether it would be best to follow them out, he'd quickly catch up, but in the end he just hoped Miss Lucas would forgive him if he didn't, and so he turned and went back into the main part of the house again.<p>

After changing out the clothing that his afternoon of riding had soaked he went downstairs to the library, where both Richard and Georgiana looked like they had been waiting for his return. Well, best get it over with.

"Richard, Georgiana."

Georgiana was first to reply, "Brother, are you well?"

"I am fine Georgie. It was just something I had to do."

"And what was that, Darcy?" Richard was giving him 'that look'. Sorry Richard, but I'm not planning on telling you.

"It was nothing of import. However the ride back gave me time to think. We will be returning to London to see 1812 in."

That prompted the expected, "What?" from Richard, but a surprising "No!" from Georgiana. Darcy could understand Richard's reluctance, but why could Georgiana object?

"Yes, we will be returning to London for the new year." Darcy looked over at Georgiana, but she said nothing.

It was Richard that raised his objection, "Not I Darcy! I've just managed to get downstairs. I'll not risk my leg with a coach trip on winter roads."

"Wilkins can go slowly and with great care."

"No, sorry Darcy, but I am staying for at least another month. Anyway there is every chance the weather will pack it in and you'd be forced to stay in some dreadful inn, maybe for days."

"I've been talked to Wilkins. He thinks the weather will behave itself for the next few days."

"Why the rush Darcy? We can stay a few months more. The Admiral extended the lease until Easter, and I am sure if we need to, he'd be willing to extend it further."

"We need to get back to London. We've been here in Ramsgate far too long, it was only supposed to be a couple of months, add your few months more and it will be over half a year."

"So?

"It's time to leave. We've stayed longer than we should."

"You've still not given a reason other than you want to go. So, go, I'm not stopping you. I'll not be going until my leg is stronger."

"So you won't coming back with us to London?"

"No Darcy, I won't."

"If that's your wish. I'll send the coach as soon as you ask for it. Well, Georgiana, can you pack for an early morning departure?"

"Sorry. But no Fitzwilliam." That surprised Darcy. He didn't think she'd bought that much with her.

"We need to be on the road by at least midday. Would that be possible? Or we'll have to leave the day after." Darcy hoped his exasperation did not show.

"I won't be ready brother, because I will not leaving."

"Sorry? What?"

"I am staying with Cousin Richard."

"No, young lady, you are not. You will have your trunks packed by midday, even if I have to give the orders myself."

"Do what you want brother, but I'll not leave while he needs me."

"You'll do what you are told!"

""Yes, but not this time. This time I choose to stay. I am not going!"

"You will be going with me if I have to drag you into the coach myself!"

"You are being horrible!"

"I am not. You can't stay here!"

"Why not? It's Elizabeth isn't it? You still think she's not good enough for me!"

Darcy went to refute this, but his innate honesty meant he could not truthfully say no, because it was actually because of Elizabeth, but not for the reason Georgiana had said. While he was taking a moment of time to formulate a response that was both truthful but not give away anything of what hd just happened he realised his silence was the worst possible response.

"You hate her, don't you! But she is the only one that understands me!"

Darcy was on the back foot. Once again he tried to explain, "I don't hate her. I..."

But here, once again he could not say how felt about her. Darcy knew at that moment he still loved her, as much as ever, even with what she had said, even without any hope of her loving him in return. He was still trying to figure out his own feelings, when Georgiana yelled at him. "You do! You do hate her! You just can't say it! An if you hate her, you must hate me too, 'cause I am just like her. Well I hate you!"

With that she burst into to tears and ran from the room. Could this day get any worse? Darcy flopped into the nearest chair and held his head in his hand as the sound of Georgiana running up the stairs filled the silence. Darcy continued to stare at the floor as Georgiana's footsteps were heard pounding along the hall before the final punctuation of a slammed door.

"That was well done Darcy."

"Don't Richard... Just... Please don't."

"Sorry Darcy. If there is anything..."

Darcy shook his head. Thankfully Richard did not press him further. He stood and poured himself a glass of brandy and tossed it back in one go. He then poured another and gestured with the bottle at Richard, who was looking a tad incredulous, shook his head, refusing to join him.

Nursing his second glass he sat back down, but in his normal chair this time, and stared into the library's fire. Glances at Richard showed he was reading, or at least making the appearance of it. Darcy thought Richard was probably dying with curiosity but willing to wait him out. But it was too raw, too fresh to talk to him about it. Yet, the silence and the slight numbness the brandy afforded him allowed Darcy, for the first real time since this morning, to run through the whole proposal with a modicum of objectivity. Up until now his rejection and feelings had gotten in the way of trying to work out what he had said that had been so wrong. Darcy sat and replayed bits and pieces of that fateful meeting over and over in his head trying to make sense of it.

* * *

><p>His period of introspection, for how long Darcy was not sure, came to an end when he reached for the bottle to pour another glass to discover it was empty. Sometime during this period, he must have fetched the bottle. Oh dear, he'd drunk most of a bottle of bandy alone. Darcy felt a good deal of relief when he noticed that Richard must have joined him as there was a mostly empty snifter next to him as well. "Do you..." Darcy's question died as he realised that Richard was asleep.<p>

As Darcy sat back down, he realised with all the disappointments and feelings of rejection, he was also angry. He was angry about the number of things that Elizabeth had accused him of that he had not done. In this, he could rely on her own honesty to get justice. But how to correct her mistaken belief's? It was not like he was like to be received if he went to visit anytime soon. Get Richard to plead his case? She liked him. But that would mean having to explain more than he wanted to. Georgiana was definitely out. That friend... Miss Lucas... No, that would not do either. Darcy was getting frustrated, then he realised he could write her a letter. Yes, that would work. She would read it if he asked her to, that he was sure of.

Finally feeling like there was something he could control, stood up and walked over to the desk. He tried to silently prepare to write, but it was impossible. No problem, he'd just use the desk upstairs in Richard's room if Richard was asleep here. So, quietly, he snuck out of the library and went upstairs.

* * *

><p>Darcy looked off into the distance, his first couple of attempts sitting screwed up on the top shelf of the writing desk next to the flickering candles. They were all too pleading, too begging, each one asking for a second chance. No, he didn't want a second chance, it was justice that he wanted.<p>

With this in mind he started again...

_"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which were so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself. The effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand your justice. _

'_Several offenses of very different natures, you laid to my charge..._

* * *

><p>Richard awoke to find that Darcy had abandoned him to parts unknown. With some difficulty, he managed to rouse a servant to summon O'Connor and a footman to get him back upstairs.<p>

The convoluted and sometimes painful process did have one consolation, he found out where Darcy was; in his own room, writing. Richard left him be until he was well settled in his own bed, before starting what he hoped would be a successful interrogation.

"What are you doing Darcy?"

"Writing."

"Yes, I can see that. What are you writing?"

"A letter."

"A letter to whom?"

"Someone."

"Who, Darcy?"

"Just someone." Darcy was starting to sound quite annoyed.

Richard was finding this conversation as much fun as Darcy was finding it annoying. Richard wondered how far he could bait the bear, so continued. "Well? You might as well tell me. I'll find out soon enough."

"No."

"Have your way. I'll just ask downstairs once you've gone. You know the servants will tell me things they'd never tell you." Richard was surprised that that statement caused Darcy to flinch.

Darcy turned towards him. "You are not going to give this up are you?"

"No, of course not Darcy. I'm stuck here, bored, with nothing much to do. Your antics today have been the most excitement we've seen here for ages."

"I am glad to have assisted with your entertainment." Darcy said with a sarcastic tone.

"Don't be like that. Something must have happened today. Are you going to tell me about it, or am I just going to learn of it from others?"

"I very much doubt you'll find out anything from anyone here."

"So it must be about someone else."

Darcy didn't reply. Richard thought if he took a wild guess, Darcy's annoyance with being questioned should needle the answer out of him.

"So Mrs Younge is going to get hung after all? And you are writing a furious missive to Lord... what's his name."

"Roskill. And no, it's not to Lord Roskill."

"Ah... Is it to..."

Darcy interrupted. "Look, it's to Elizabeth Smith alright? Satisfied?"

Richard didn't have an immediate reply.

Getting no reply, Darcy turned back to the desk while saying, "Good, I'll get back to it then."

Thinking about it for a moment, why was Darcy writing to Elizabeth? She's not been around much, but her other social obligations should allow her to visit before long.

"Why are you writing to her? Warning her off? I really didn't think you were like that."

"I am not. She is welcome here anytime she wishes. You know that. Anyway, you are likely to see her again as soon as I have departed."

"What? Why?"

"Let's just say her absence has been much to do with my presence."

"That makes no sense Darcy, are you saying she dislikes you?"

"It appears so."

"How can you know? She's had other social obligations."

"Whether that is true, I cannot say. But I know she has been avoiding come here to avoid me."

"No. We all get on fine. You are reading too much into it. Don't say it was Georgiana's outburst..."

"Sorry, Richard, but it is true. Elizabeth told me herself. Well, not in that many words, but it was clear that was her meaning."

"When did she tell you? She's not... Ah. Is that why you've you stormed through the house earlier today?" Richard paused, hoping for Darcy to fill in the rest, particularly why Darcy had gone to visit her at all.

But it didn't happen. Time to prod some more.

"So Darcy. The two of you had a difference of opinion?"

"No, it was not that."

"A lively debate...?"

"No."

"Quarrelled, eh?"

"It was a bloody argument, alright? Satisfied?"

Richard noticed that Darcy looked more upset or sad, as if he had been defeated, than angry, so tried to reassure him, "Don't worry, just like a lovers tiff, she'll be fine tomorrow."

Richard observed Darcy flinch again with that statement. Could his cousin have acted on his feelings for Elizabeth? Seemed unlikely. He made no secret of his views of her lack of status. Richard's thoughts were interrupted by Darcy saying. "No. No, she won't."

"She won't what?"

"She won't be fine tomorrow, or the day after, or the one after that."

"What did you say, Darcy? Knowing you, something truly condescending. Or were you just your usual charming self?"

As soon as he said Richard knew he had gone too far, from Darcy's reaction. This time it was Richard's turn to flinch as Darcy gave him such a glare, a real murderous look. Richard realised he must have prodded a very fresh, open wound.

"Very sorry, Darcy. Don't mind me. Just the brandy talking. I'll rest here while you get on with your letter."

Richard saw the sad, defeated look, returned to Darcy's face as his cousin turned back to continue his letter as he had suggested.

Richard had dozed off and on for the two hours or so Darcy must have been writing, as the candles had burnt themselves to stubs, but he wanted to get some proper sleep.

"Darcy. Hate to interrupt, but..."

"But what?" At least Darcy sounded angry rather than defeated now.

"Look, it's late. Haven't you finished?"

"No. I've a bit to go."

"What? You've been writing for two hours."

"I need to get this right."

"You need to get some sleep."

"I'll be fine."

"But, won't you be riding tomorrow?"

"Riding?"

"Yes, riding. Or are you going to take the coach and leave Georgiana without means of transport?"

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

"Good thing I did then, isn't it Darcy?"

"Maybe I'll talk to Georgiana again in the morning..."

"She won't change her mind, Darcy. She's too much like you in that regard."

"Very true. So, yes, in that case I'll be riding tomorrow."

"So go get some sleep. You can finish tomorrow."

"No I need to finish this tonight."

"I was afraid of that."

"Sorry Richard, but it has to be done."

"Fine. But could you finish it elsewhere?"

"What, London? I just said I need to finish tonight."

"No Darcy. Not London. Downstairs."

"What?"

"Bugger off downstairs Darcy. I need to get some sleep, even if you won't until you've finished."

"Oh, sorry." Darcy made haste to pack up.

"One last thing Darcy."

"What!"

"Come and see me before you go. Promise you'll wait until then."

"Sure Richard. I was planning to wait until Miss Lucas had arrived."

"Very good. Oh, yes, be polite."

"Polite?"

"Yes, be polite when you go visit Elizabeth to give her your letter."

"How did you know I was going to go visit her?"

"If, as you said she is unlikely to come here until you've gone, you'll have to go to her. I can't see you trusting that letter in anyone hands other than your own."

"True."

"Oh, one last thing Darcy. If she doesn't accept it from your hands, leave it with me. I'll see that she gets it when she is more receptive."

"I'll bear that in mind. Thank you Richard."

"No thanks are needed. Now bugger off and let an old soldier get his rest."

"Good night Richard."

" 'Night Darcy."

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><p>It was at least another hour, but more like two before Darcy felt he had properly explained how badly she had misjudged him and how wrong she had been about many things. Remembering what Richard has said, he finished with a sudden burst of words...<p>

_You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you at the time; but I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, is intimate with same people, and would be able to vouch for their the inclinations and natures. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there always will be the possibility of consulting him._

_I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you._

Dusting it dry, Darcy folded the letter and placed it in his coat, before rising and, on slightly unsteady legs from sitting so long, left the library and headed upstairs to bed.


	35. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 2A

**Apologies to all those I've made wait even longer for this next chapter ****– I'****m still suffering from an excess of life at the moment, but that was not the real reason. If I had the opportunity I had complete writers block. In the few times when I managed to get in front of keyboard, all I was able to produce was maybe 2 or 3 sentences and then spent the rest of the time editing and doing much that led to nothing.**

**Thankfully this all changed recently, and I've got ideas, and the words are all coming out as easily as before. This is a only half a chapter, as I had intended to write not just Darcy's POV in this one, but the others as well. But in the aim to have something for my long suffering readers, I've stopped at a logical place and posted – so this is Part 3, Chapter 2A**

**Regards,**

**Stephen **

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><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 2A<strong>

It was a testament to the turmoil of Darcy's mind that even with an emotionally draining day followed by a very late night, he slept only fitfully and woke feeling like he had hardly slept at all. However, now awake, sleep did not return and, realising any further attempt was futile, Darcy reluctantly got out of bed and prepared to dress.

It was very early, so early that not all of the servants were yet awake, as Darcy stood there carelessly tying his cravat. As he looked in the mirror he realised, it would not do. So he put that one, now too creased to be used aside, picked up another and tied it far more carefully this time. Checking this one in the mirror, he turned right and then left, looking at the effect.

As he stood there, nodding in satisfaction in a job well done, Elizabeth's words came unbidden into his mind. She thought him proud and arrogant, even conceited. But he had the right to be proud, didn't he? He assumed he was handsome, other ladies certainly commented as if it was so.

How could she say that?

She clearly did not understand him or his standing in the world.

Just in that she proved once again how unworthy she was to expect his attentions, and how grateful she should have been that he overcame all his scruples to even offer.

But with all of that she rejected him.

Unconscionable!

* * *

><p>As Darcy sat finishing his breakfast, the fact that he was so firmly rejected, and in such definitive terms, played on his mind. He could only assume that Wickham had poisoned her opinion of him as he tried to do in others parts of England. Well the letter will clear it up.<p>

The letter! Darcy looked around. He couldn't see it on his dresser or the bedside table. Nor was at the top of his travelling case. It must be on the desk downstairs.

Surprising the chambermaid waiting to clear his breakfast tray when he burst out of his room at some pace, Darcy ran frantically downstairs. Oh no! It wasn't on top of the desk in the library!

He lifted the scattered papers. No. Opened drawers, (why would he put it in a drawer? still best to check), no not there either!

He remembered finishing it, but for the life of him, he could not remember now where he had put it, or even where he was when he had finished.

In a bit of a panic he raced upstairs, then, remembering himself, he tiptoed theatrically into Richard's room.

Frenetically searching, only found the screwed up pages of his first few attempts.

By now Darcy was frantic, maybe he'd packed it, so he equally theatrically tiptoed out of Richard's room and, with exaggerated slowness, shut the door before running quietly off to his room. Unknown to Darcy, Richard's war experience meant he was a very light sleeper, and he watched Darcy's whole performance through hooded eyes, only just successfully preventing himself from laughing out loud.

In his own room Darcy's quick but thorough search through his packed items found nothing!

Darcy sat down in despair. Where had it gone? And what would happen if it was then found by the wrong person? Well he could only deal with that once it was found – he supposed it could cost a great deal to have it returned, unless the person who found it could not read, and handed it to Richard or Georgiana – they'd give it back. Well that was a silver lining – the most likely outcome.

Feeling some relief after coming to that conclusion, Darcy decided it was probably early enough to rewrite it – which probably would be a good idea anyway, he was in a violent temper at the time, and that was not conducive to reasoned discourse. Now completely lost as to the time, Darcy reached into his pocket for his watch when he felt more than heard the rustle of paper from his coat.

The letter!

The relief was almost palpable. Darcy sat on the bed, head in his hands, breathing in and out, in and out for what felt like hours before his equanimity returned.

After repacking his travelling case and having it taken downstairs, he followed it down to the library to wait for Richard and Georgiana to rise, and Miss Lucas to arrive so he could make his farewells, as a gentleman should, and also, so he knew Elizabeth would be at home alone so he would have the privacy necessary to give her his letter.

He tried to become interested in the book he had been reading, but his mind kept sliding back to his rejection, and from there to the letter he had just written so late last night. Did it say what he wanted to say, would she even be willing to read it. Elizabeth was not like most women that you had to skirt any unpleasant subject, but even still she was a lady (however her circumstances made her appear), could it be too harsh? Too raw? Maybe it was too blunt? It certainly was direct, very direct.

Should he change it? Now he could not specifically remember exactly what he had written.

Maybe, in the clear light of a new morning he should read it and make a few changes. He had the time to alter a word or two.

No, he should leave it. Elizabeth would understand, she was the most rational, intelligent woman he had ever met, well maybe matched by Grandmother Fitzwilliam the Dowager Countess of Matlock. His maternal Grandmother respected being treated as an equal, so Elizabeth would. Should? But he had made her extremely upset, however unconsciously he had done so. He certainly did not want to add to it. Maybe he should change it.

Visibly fighting with himself, Darcy eventually pulled out the letter and started to read.

It was not the finest example of his penmanship for certain. In fact parts of it looked more like they came from the pen of his best friend Bingley. But, ruefully, Darcy realised it was not the penmanship that was really the problem, but the wording. His fears were confirmed, it was angry, accusative, and in the case of several phrases, had they been uttered to a gentleman it would see Darcy at a dawn meeting the next day. This letter should not see the light of day.

He needed to spend considerable time thinking about the wording. Words had power of their own. He had a particular talent, honed in years of debates that meant he could craft an argument that, however shaky the premise, appeared rock solid. Yes that is what he needed to do.

Now much calmer, Darcy put the letter away, and sat back crafting words and sentences in his head, reciting them to himself, editing or adding words and phrases.

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><p>A while later, on hearing that both Richard and Georgiana were up, Darcy realised that he had no need to wait for Miss Lucas, as he was to rewrite the letter first, so made his way up to Richard's room.<p>

"Morning Richard."

"Morning Darcy."

Richard seemed to be wearing a silly grin, but Darcy could see no reason for it. "Just came to say farewell. I'll be off now, try to make the most of the break in the weather."

"Could I say anything to convince you to stay?"

"No. Sorry Richard. I need to go."

"Thought so. Well, I hope you have an easy journey of it."

"Should do. The roads will not cause Cicero too much trouble."

"Should I get O'Connor to..."

Darcy did not let him finish, he did not feel up to having a nursemaid all the way to London. "No. He is needed more here. Do not worry about me."

"You sure?"

"Of course. I will be fine."

"I imagine so Darcy. But are you fine now?"

"Look, best be on my way. Is there any letters you wish me to take? I can pop back up to collect them after saying farewell to Georgiana."

"No bother Darcy. Take care."

"Will do Richard. Don't worry, I will be fine. Honestly."

"If you say so. You know I'm here for you. Write to me."

"I will."

Feeling somewhat awkward, Darcy made his goodbyes and left to go downstairs to his sister.

Parting with Georgiana was also as unsettling, but for a different reason. Darcy tried to convince her to return with him one last time, but she stood by her decision. While Darcy could admire her decision to be treated in a more adult manner and be allowed more independence he did wish it to have occurred at a less fraught time. Georgiana still looked a little bewildered at his desire to leave, but in the same way he could not get her to leave with him, she could not convince him to stay.

It was not long before a teary-eyed Georgiana was waving from the back door as Darcy threw his leg over the saddle and then sat and waited as the last of his luggage was buckled on. Then with a jaunty wave (with the aim to disguise how he was truly feeling) Darcy spurred Cicero out of the yard and on to the road along the waterfront, but headed east not west.

Darcy stopped Cicero at the first intersection.

As his horse jiggered and pranced in annoyance at being held from having a good run, Darcy looked longingly at a non-descript house part way up the street leading away from the water.

Darcy shook his head, how did it go so wrong, so quickly? What did he need to write to make her realise how badly she had misjudged him? Maybe he still could just talk to her. Explain. But exactly what to say? Darcy knew if he did try, he'd only get one chance at it. Mess it up, even if nowhere near as badly as his proposal, and it would be all over. Forever.

But Darcy was at a loss for what to say. So he sat unmoving, furiously thinking.

But with no bolt from the blue, no sudden inspiration, Darcy realised it was futile to imagine that he would say anything in the spur of the moment that would be better than a well presented, carefully reasoned letter, handed over in a few days time.

Decision made, Darcy turned horse around and headed out of Ramsgate and then west towards London at a canter.

The road, while wet, was still firm, and with little traffic, Darcy made good progress, giving his large strong chestnut a decent run. But as he did so, the mild north-westerly wind strengthened, bring with it a wall of grey cloud, slowly darkening and billowing up as it approached closer. There were times the wind gusts were strong enough that Darcy had cause to be concerned for the security of his hat.

It was not long after Darcy had taken a break for lunch and was back on the road that he felt the splat of big heavy drops of rain. Still in full sunlight, with clear skies directly above and to the south, Darcy thought bloody typical of his last few days, already raining on him while it still appeared to be a pleasant sunny day.

From then the day just got worse. The wind continued to strengthen, the gusts strong enough to cause Darcy to grab for his hat on a number of occasions. Thus the clouds, at first raced across overhead, and then continued on to gallop at breakneck speed to towards the southern horizon, soon blocking out the frail winter sun. All the time fat, heavy rain drops fell at an ever increasing rate.

His plans to get at least as far as Canterbury before nightfall in tatters, Darcy carried on as long as he could stand the freezing north-west winds and icy rain working its way under his collar and down his back. As the light failed, and way growing ever more difficult, Darcy realised that he would have to stop at the next inn he could find.

Thankfully he found one not too much further down the road and rode into the yard alongside.

While he saw to Cicero's care (not trusting his horse to a common inn's groom), Darcy arranged for a roaring fire, a large snifter of brandy and a deep bath, or at least as much of one as could be arranged in the time available, to be ready in his room, for when he went up to it.

When he got up to his room, he struggled to get out of his sodden clothing, before climbing into the bathtub. While it was deep, the water was more warm than hot, but even so, it still gave him pins and needles as the feeling returned to his extremities.

As Darcy luxuriated in the warmth, he fantasised about what could have been, how they would have travelled first to London, although that visit would have been just long enough to introduce Elizabeth to the family, and then on to Pemberley. Ah, the magic of Pemberley. Who knows, maybe if he could get her there, would it be enough to change her mind? He imagined her in the barouche as they came over the last rise, Darcy deliberately not describing too much about the house or the grounds, just to ensure the surprise. He longed to see the look of astonishment he knew would grace her face. He would then turn to her and say, "Yes, darling, all this IS yours".

Darcy sighed at the bittersweet fantasy, supposing it was time to get out, as it was too conducive to this line of thought that was too emotionally loaded to continue. Anyway, the water was getting cold and the brandy was long gone.

After dressing in his slightly rumpled spare clothing, Darcy decided he'd rather eat downstairs in company rather that continue sitting in his room, most likely growing more and more maudlin as the evening progressed.

He wandered down to the common room, foregoing a private parlour and requested dinner. There was something familiar about the inn, but Darcy could not put his finger on it. He gave his order to the innkeeper and sat back waiting for dinner while nursing another brandy.

It was not long before dinner arrived, but as he was mindlessly staring into the fire he hadn't noticed the barmaid until she placed the plate on the table in front of him, saying saucily "Oh 'ere you go sir. Is there any'tink else I can do for yah?"

Looking back at the maid, Darcy had to laugh at the situation (which got him a few odd looks) - It was the same inn, the same barmaid that Elizabeth thought he had seduced! The barmaid looked a little concerned to have provoked laughter, but Darcy let her know that he had no need for anything else.

Continuing to chuckle to himself he finished his dinner. Now with a couple brandies and full stomach, already tired from an early night and a long ride, Darcy realise that he would fall asleep quickly today and so retired early – after ensuring the barmaid knew he definitely wanted nothing else.

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><p>The next morning Darcy woke late, fully rested. Looking out the window he saw the weather was still poor, but not as unpleasant as yesterday. So after a quick breakfast, Darcy was on the road again for Canterbury and London.<p>

The days travel was long and tiring as Darcy expected. He only arrived in London as the light was failing, but the lit streets meant he found little difficulty in making his way to Darcy House. Steele was surprised to see him, the plan had been for Darcy to stay in Ramsgate until Richard was well enough to travel, or at least he would have expected a letter letting him know of his masters plan to return. But Steele was a consummate butler, and so with very little apparent effort quickly roused the staff to prepare a bath, lay out new clothing in his masters rooms, and a hot meal for afterwards.

Later, as Darcy prepared for bed, he looked at the door connecting the master's room to that of the mistress with longing and a sigh, before blowing out the candle and drifting off to sleep.


	36. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 2B

**Here is the second part of Part 3, Chapter 2 – now from Elizabeth's perspective. One final bit ****to come ****(it was supposed to be a shorter one, but is actually just as long – I still have to do a read through/edit and should be able to post this weekend - maybe Good Friday) .**

**Regards,**

**Stephen **

**P.S. I posted this without my usual read through/edit, so discovered a large number of silly, if minor errors. As a result I've reposted it rather than try to correct it. **

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><p>.<p>

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 2B**

Elizabeth woke from her mid-afternoon sleep with a headache that was worse than before resting. She remembered Charlotte coming in and going again, and that would explain why she had a comforter draped over her. She felt sore and stiff from sleeping in such an odd position, and was still fully dressed.

The events of this morning left her mentally and emotionally drained. Her heart was feeling a jumble of emotions; she was still very angry, offended, but also saddened, disappointed, frightened, while also feeling bereaved, like she had lost a friend. But there was this nagging feeling that she had made the wrong decision but for all the right reasons. But she had been right to say no. Hadn't she? The terms of Mr Darcy's offer were insulting, but the pain she felt was far more than from just that, she'd been insulted before, called far worse, received far worse offers, in fact very immoral offers before, by worse men. And yet each of those she had brushed off as small minded people being nasty. But he was just another one of those, wasn't he? No, no need to question it, she was right about him, and always had been. Or had she? Was she?

The memories of what had occurred came back in a jumble in her mind, and the throbbing of her temple meant she could not focus long enough to sort it out into a coherent order. However Elizabeth realised that she had, in a moment of real anger, blurted out the secret of her shame and of Amy-Jane's parentage. This both disgusted and frightened Elizabeth. She felt physically sick. And now Richard and, oh no, Georgiana would know soon enough. Maybe that was why she felt like she had lost a friend, as she very likely, with a stupid, stupid comment, aimed to wound Mr Darcy, it had reflected and will now cause far more damage to herself. She had felt like she was getting very close to Georgiana and now all that was ruined. Elizabeth was in the process of working herself into a worse state when Charlotte popped her head around the door.

"How are you feeling dear?" Charlotte asked in a soft voice.

"Not that well." Elizabeth replied in the same quiet tones.

"Worse than before?"

"Yes."

"Feel up to dinner?"

Elizabeth shook her head, but the motion caused her to wince.

Charlotte must have noticed, as she continued, "Never mind. Maybe I can make a little chicken soup?"

Elizabeth made a face at the suggestion.

"No problem. I'll be back up with some tea. You rest." Charlotte said this as she walked to the window and closed the curtains. Elizabeth felt a little better already. As Charlotte went to open the door she turned back to say, "Best you prepare for bed while I get the tea".

After Charlotte had left, Elizabeth got as far as sitting up and removing her stockings and her dress, but she just could not muster the enthusiasm to do any more. She wanted to just crawl up inside herself and make the world disappear. So she lay back onto the bed and curled into a ball facing the wall. The tears came, silently, without Elizabeth knowing really why was even crying. She was still curled up like this when Charlotte came back in with the tea.

"Come on Lizzie, this will not do. Stand up."

Elizabeth stood reluctantly, tears running down her face. Charlotte pulled a much washed handkerchief from her sleeve and tried to dry them. "Shh dear, it will be alright."

"Oh Charlotte! It won't!" Elizabeth almost collapsed in her friend's arms. Elizabeth knew she had a wonderful friend, as Charlotte just hugged her in return, not asking the questions Elizabeth knew Charlotte would want to ask, but she was not prepared to answer. At least not now. Maybe later, much, much later. The warmth and connection, the love from Charlotte's embrace was, in time, able to stop the flow of tears.

Charlotte must have sensed the change. "Now Elizabeth, it will, given time. You just need to trust that."

Elizabeth couldn't, just right now, believe it. But a small voice inside her head reminded her of how she felt going on 5 years ago, and how much different she felt just a few days ago. While calming down, Elizabeth stood there passively and let Charlotte remove the rest of her clothing and help her into a night gown. Charlotte's fingers running through her hair plaiting it for bed was soothing. It reminded Elizabeth of her and Jane doing this to each other all those years ago, when the world was a smaller, nicer, safer place and the future seemed boundless. Her equanimity had mostly returned when Charlotte gently pushed her so she half fell back to sit on the bed.

Not willing to be treated as a complete invalid, Elizabeth got herself the rest of the way into bed, turning to find Charlotte handing her the cup of tea with a smile.

"There, that's much better. Drink your tea. Oh, it has willow bark extract in it, so it could be taste a bit odd."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now drink up. All of it, mind."

Elizabeth noticed that Charlotte deliberately stood there and watched her drink it all before retrieving the empty cup. "Want another?"

Elizabeth shook her head. She felt exhausted. All she wanted to do now was sleep. But before that, one thing first now she felt a bit better. "Charlotte, can you have Amy-Jane come up after her dinner?"

"Are you sure you are up to it?"

"Please Charlotte."

"Sure. But not long. You will do her no favours by allowing her to make you worse."

"Yes mother."

With a chuckle Charlotte gave her a quick hug, before leaving and taking the cup downstairs.

It was not long after that Elizabeth heard Charlotte tell Amy-Jane, as they climbed the stairs "Now Amy-Jane, your mummy is not feeling well. You need to be a good girl and be nice and quiet." To which her daughter replied, "I can do that Aunty Charlotte, quiet as a mouse."

Of course, Amy-Jane's resolve to be quiet lasted only as long as entering the room.

"Mummy!" Elizabeth winced at the sound, then braced for the arrival of a 5 year old missile.

Charlotte started to tell her off "Amy-Jane! You …" but Elizabeth held up one hand while she hugged her daughter fiercely with the other. This was exactly what she needed, the complete unconditional love of her daughter. A few moments later Elizabeth realised that Charlotte should be included too, so gestured her over to join the hug as well. Which she did. This sent the feeling of confusion packing, but not, as Elizabeth hoped, the headache. In a little bit, she manoeuvred Amy-Jane to sit on a spot next to her at the head of the bed, and got her daughter to tell her about her day, with assistance from her 'Aunty Charlotte'.

Amy-Jane was chatting away when Charlotte silently indicated that they should leave. Elizabeth mouthed 'no' in return. Charlotte shook her head, and indicated they should leave again. Reluctantly, realising at that moment how unwell she felt, Elizabeth told her daughter it was time for mummy to go to bed, but she'd listen to the rest tomorrow. Amy-Jane looked a little worried, but brightened after her mother gave her a hug, said goodnight and she let herself let her be led away.

As Charlotte ushered her daughter out of the room, Elizabeth collapsed back on her pillow, exhausted, with her head pounding, not sure if she had been able to wait at least until after Charlotte had properly exited the room or not. She looked over at the second cup of tea that Charlotte had left on the dresser by the bed, but could not be bothered to reach over and get it. So it was in this frame of mind, Elizabeth drifted off into a fitful sleep.

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><p>Several times that night Elizabeth woke in a panic, having fragments of some confused dream that she had said yes. Each time this quickly subsided as she remembered she had definitely refused.<p>

Then once, after a very weird dream, where Mr Darcy appeared as the hero, she woke frantic, that she had refused him. And felt distinct disappointment when she recalled that she had. It was only after she worked through her refusal, and all the various reasons for it, that she was able to overcome the feeling of disaster that accompanied knowing she had refused.

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><p>The morning bought no more relief for Elizabeth's confusion. There were the various fragmentary memories of the dreams of the previous night, particularly the very real feeling of disaster, for refusing Mr Darcy, that persisted for some time and compounded the bewildering range of contradictory emotions she still felt.<p>

Well, at least the headache has mostly gone, thought Elizabeth, as she got up and dressed to face another day. However, that did not last long as it returned as she dealt with her daughter over breakfast. Amy-Jane was normally a well behaved child, was regrettably particularly effervescent this morning, maybe picking up on her mother's own confusion. But it was not that bad, and Elizabeth was determined not to let it ruin her day. She thought it might be good to take her daughter for a walk to just outside town, which would give Amy-Jane a chance to run her fidgets away, and herself time to resolve everything she was thinking and feeling. It surprised her that Charlotte was still intending to go to the Darcy's, but Elizabeth didn't know how to go about asking if Mr Darcy had banned either her or her daughter or all three of them. She supposed the best thing to do was to wait and see how Charlotte got on, if they all were banned, Charlotte could join them on their walk.

It was while Charlotte was preparing to go to the Darcy's, about mid to late morning, that Elizabeth felt a very peculiar feeling, like someone was staring intently at her. The feeling persisted as she looked around the parlour, but saw no one. Mrs Carter was off at the market, and Amy-Jane was playing with her new doll near the fireplace. Checking, Elizabeth found there was not anyone in the hall. Charlotte, the only other person in the house, was still upstairs. Returning to the parlour, she felt a discomforting prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck that increased as she moved towards the window.

Stopping just before the window, feeling very apprehensive, Elizabeth looked out. The view was nothing out of the ordinary, several of her neighbours were outside at the time, but nothing else. It was the movement that she noticed, as a rider on a large chestnut horse, who had been sitting there at the intersection at end of the street, where it met the seaside boulevard, turned and rode off at some speed.

The feeling abruptly stopped. I was just being silly, thought Elizabeth. But it had left her feeling weak and a bit shaky, and she had to sit down.

It was at this moment that Charlotte walked into the parlour. So, regardless of how much Elizabeth insisted she was not feeling ill, Charlotte did not believe her, and Mrs Carter, who had returned, agreed. In the end, Elizabeth conceded defeat, and let her friend send her to bed for the day, while Aunty Charlotte took Amy-Jane off to the Darcy's with her, to give her 'some much needed peace and quiet'. But, resolved Elizabeth, even if I sleep until luncheon, I will go for the walk to clear my head, even if it is without Amy-Jane.

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><p>So it was after a short nap, and a quick, early lunch that Elizabeth left the house and walked along the seaside boulevard, deep in thought. At the point where she would have expected to head north to the little meadow that Amy-Jane enjoyed playing in, Elizabeth chose to continue east towards the lighthouse instead, as the clouds, a long way to the north, didn't look like they'd spoil the walk, and she could almost be guaranteed the solitude she desired on the cliff side path.<p>

As Elizabeth meandered along the seaside path she focussed first on getting a much clearer understanding of what had transpired that yesterday morning. By the time she had reached the lighthouse it was in, a still slightly vague, but now coherent order; from Mr Darcy's hapless, downright insulting proposal, through his twin solutions to non-existent problems, her reply, where she gave as good as she had got, the funny bit about Jane being mercenary because she cared for someone else other than Charles, her pointing out his own hypocrisy and finally what she was most embarrassed about, blurting out the truth about Amy-Jane. And to him, of all people.

Unwelcome with this flowed his parting. What was it he said? "Forgive me for bothering you. You have my best wishes for your health and happiness." She had expected further insults, at least that was what had happened with all the other gentlemen when she had turned down their unwanted propositions. Many, she thought, didn't really mean it and so would not have been that disappointed in her guarding her remaining virtue. Yet with Mr Darcy she'd utterly dismissed his marriage proposal – it was not, as she expected, an immoral proposal – here Elizabeth must, however reluctantly, admit he had offered her the protection of his name and was willing to risk his own standing in the world (however he planned to disguise it) due to the strength of his feelings. He should have been livid. In her experience, rich gentlemen, being thwarted, tended to become nasty (or nastier), many needing Mr Hawker's own special way of discouragement before they finally took no for an answer.

But he did not own up to his actions, though he was usually so very honest, at time to his detriment. Elizabeth recalled how indignant he was of being so accused. Yet was it not that gentlemen, once found out, had a perverse sort of pride in their animal natures, regardless of how much they initially hid it. What was it he had said? It was something along the lines of; "I know I cannot say anything you would believe about me, but for your sake, ask Richard or Georgiana about how I act compared to the Viscount. I am not him." Why did he, could he, think he was any different than his cousin? But all the evidence said he was, indeed, just another immoral gentleman, as they all were. In addition there was the very final moments before he left, pausing at the parlour door, in side profile with slumped shoulders, his head turned her way, defeat written into his face and body, saying "Goodbye and God bless" before turning away again and leaving for good.

She stood at the cliff's edge looking out over the sea for a long time trying to reconcile what was almost two different Mr Darcy's. This confused Elizabeth. It did not fit. Certainly a gentleman that was willing to treat other women, those of her status so casually, they would not be polite to one that rejected him so adamantly. Could she have miss judged him? She was always right with her judgement, well apart from the Viscount, but that was 5 years ago, and she'd lived a lot since then. Look at that nasty Mr Wickham. Even Richard made it clear what he was like and desired, even though she had spotted that from the start.

No, there was no way her opinion, formed that very first day could be wrong. Elizabeth thought of all the evidence that she had about what Mr Darcy really was like – you could not argue with that, could you? Although there were times, actually quite a few times, when he seemed different, almost a perfect gentleman, intelligent, erudite, honest and honourable to a fault, even, at times broad-minded and willing to listen to reason, flexible enough to change his mind when presented with a better argument. No, it was all a facade – obviously to try to get her to like him enough to accept his proposal. It was lucky she had learnt of his true nature accidentally. Elizabeth wondered what if she hadn't been so lucky. Would she, could she have accepted him? No there was just not enough to like, let alone love, in the man.

Looking around Elizabeth noticed the clouds to the north had crept south while she stood there, lost in thought, while the winds had also strengthen considerably. Staring north for only a short time, Elizabeth realised that she better hurry back before the rain, that the clouds heralded, arrived.

The rush to return to Ramsgate precluded any further thought to the quandary that was Mr Darcy. But she had left her return too late. The rain, well in advance of the clouds, being blown by the ever stronger wind, fell in large fat droplets, before she had even reached the outskirts of Ramsgate. With no protection from the elements, having neglected to bring anything other than a shawl for warmth, Elizabeth was soaked through in a matter of minutes.

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><p>It was as a rather wet and bedraggled waif that Elizabeth entered the front hall. Mrs Carter rushed to her side, tut-tutting and scolding her as if she was a child, and rushed her upstairs to change. Then, once in dry clothing, sat her in front of the fire, now blazing with coal they could not afford to squander in this manner. But all of Mrs Carter's precautions were to naught, as Elizabeth succumbed to a head cold that sent her to bed, one that persisted for several days.<p> 


	37. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 2C

**Here is the final part of Part 3, Chapter 2 – now from an outsider's perspective. This turned out rather longer than I had expected. **

**Have a good Easter.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen **

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><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 2C<strong>

Richard was awakened by what was possibly the faint noise of his door being opened. He'd always been a light sleeper, and time spent on campaign had honed that talent further. Yes, there definitely was someone sneaking into his room! He had thought that the servants here were relatively honest. O'Connor certainly had not noticed anything, and being a tad light fingered himself (something that proved handy on a number of occasions on campaign), he certainly would know what to look for.

So Richard rolled over slightly, while keeping his breathing light and easy, and watched through hooded eyes as the person, a man, a large man no less, crept with theatrical movements towards the other side of the room. Richard was about to surprise them with a loud critique of their poor performance, before he realised there was something awfully familiar about the figure – it was Darcy!

In his surprise, Richard almost burst out laughing, but managed to restrain himself, if only to find out what could have caused his cousin to act so uncharacteristically. Darcy seemed very interested in the writing desk, where he had sat last night. But after some time Darcy finished, and, with an equally comical retreat, Darcy slipped back out of the room.

After hearing the door close, Richard propped himself up and looked over at the desk, and the floor around it, to see what Darcy could have been after, but saw nothing that was worth such actions. Sinking back into his pillow, to catch a little more sleep now the excitement was over, Richard though maybe Darcy had finally lost his mind.

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><p>Having broken his fast, Richard had mostly finished dressing ready for the day, just buttoning his coat, when Darcy returned to his room, but normally this time. Richard wondered if he should pretend to sneak out of the room as Darcy entered, to let him know he had been seen, but decided not to. However recalling Darcy's exaggerated movements nearly caused him to laugh aloud again, but he managed to restrain himself to just a silly smirk.<p>

After usual greetings, Richard tried, half-heartedly to convince Darcy to stay but Darcy made it clear he was leaving today. Richard was concerned that in his current mood Darcy would ride too hard and risk a fall, so offered O'Connor to accompany him, but had that suggestion flatly refused. Richard thought Darcy was carrying on his bad temper a bit too long, so offered the usual small talk while trying to work out what could Darcy and Elizabeth argue about that would cause this mood, but could think of nothing that would do it.

Without being conscious of it, Richard realised Darcy had gone. Oh dear I hope I wasn't too rude in my farewells. But for the life of him, Richard could not recall what he had actually said. Never mind, Darcy seemed so distracted it was not likely his cousin would have noticed even if he was rude.

With O'Connor to help him downstairs, Richard arrived in the front library to see Darcy as he rode out past the house and turned east, along the water front. Ah, thought Richard, off to deliver the letter. That certainly appeared to be the case, as it was a good five minutes before Darcy again came into view riding at some speed west, now towards London. But speed was not normally a good sign. Probably didn't get the reception he had been hoping for then. Not surprising really, they were both strong-willed individuals and neither would easily back down. Richard just hoped it would not stop Elizabeth, her daughter and Charlotte visiting. Speaking of which, Charlotte was late.

Blast that Darcy! If it was the case, he'd risk his leg to hobble around there to try to restore the breach his stupid cousin would have caused. Darcy could be a right arrogant arse if he wanted to be! But the worse thing was he didn't realise he was doing it. Someone is likely to take him to task one day. Could that have been what their argument had been about? Darcy would not have taken too kindly if Elizabeth had told him what most people recognised about him but would not say to his face. Good Lord, Richard had tried to subtly do so in the past, with no effect, maybe it was time to hit him over the head with it. Never mind, something to leave until he joined Darcy in London.

Still it would be a real shame if Darcy managed to cause an uncomfortable atmosphere between the rest of them. While he enjoyed Elizabeth's company, she was too quick witted for him, he had to think all the time, and that was not at all restful. In many ways, it was the same if he spent time with Darcy and, at times, even Georgiana. It was Charlotte's visits that had made the later part of his time in Ramsgate so much more enjoyable.

He had not had a female friend before; he had plenty of 'Lady Friends' but certainly not one he could just talk to like he could with her. They had similar practical bent, and in many ways were the extra child, the one that was too ordinary to notice. His brother was the heir, his sisters – well Vicky was married with a child and Sophie, she had a way of making sure everyone noticed her. He worried that Charlotte would accept an unsuitable proposal of marriage, if only to get herself out of her father's house. They had joked about how many body parts a man had to lose before she considered a suitor ineligible – at last count, one eye, one arm and one leg (as long as it was not on the same side as the arm) was still acceptable – but he sensed the bitterness that underlay her humour.

So it was a certain sense of relief that Richard saw Charlotte and Amy-Jane but no Elizabeth (he found out later she was unwell) walk up towards the front door. Richard felt like his day had improved already.

Richard was required to greet Charlotte and Amy-Jane on his own, as Georgiana was not to be seen. She seemed to be sulking, rather childish, Richard thought. Best she be left to it, if his experience with his sisters were anything to go by. He really wanted to ask Charlotte if Elizabeth had already told her what had happened between her friend and his cousin, but they were not left alone (for obvious reasons) as O'Connor plus several Darcy House maids assisted him and chaperoned them their entire visit. That was not to say the day wasn't enjoyable, as it passed in a rather silly manner, everyone trying their best to entertain the young Amy-Jane, who was in her fidgets, clearly worried about her mother being ill. Richard was rather proud of the story he invented, of how a little girl, just by coincidence also called Amy-Jane, managed to defeat the dreaded Purple Pirates (French, of course), find the lost treasure of the pantry (sticky buns!) and befriend a big but kindly sea monster (English) – what with input and yelled suggestions from the others, Richard was able to spin it for most of the afternoon – the laughter became infectious when O'Connor and one of the maid helped Amy-Jane to act out different parts of the story.

Even with all the fun they were having, Richard really wanted to know what was in that letter, as that would likely explain what happened, and why Darcy had been acting so strange. So he feigned pain in his leg, so they would look at leaving early, with the added reason that the rain, that had been falling for an hour or so, appeared to be getting heavier.

After they had left, Richard felt rather sheepish, as he realised all he had done was have possibly Charlotte find out about the letter earlier – he wasn't going to learn anything until Charlotte came back in the next morning.

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><p>Thankfully, the next day, Georgiana was over whatever particular pet caused her to sulk all of yesterday, so Richard was able to arrange for her to play with Amy-Jane in the music room, leaving Charlotte with him in the library adjoining, as Elizabeth still wasn't well. There was the added bonus of Georgiana's playing drowning out any chance of others overhearing what he and Charlotte discussed.<p>

"So Charlotte…" How was he to word this…

"Yes Richard."

Best be direct, well, direct-ish…"Charlotte. Did Elizabeth get anything yesterday?"

"Oh yes." Great! Richard waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't, so he prompted; "And?"

Charlotte giggled, which was not quite the response Richard expected, and then she elaborated, "She went for a walk in the afternoon and got caught in the rain, so she 'got' soaked, and then she 'got' a head cold."

"Charlotte!" Richard found her teasing statement amusing, but frustrating.

"Sorry… I should not make fun of friend's illness. You are right, it was not kind."

"What? No, I don't mind about that. Enough teasing, tell me about Darcy's letter."

"Letter? What letter?"

"The letter that Darcy gave Elizabeth yesterday morning."

"She made no mention of a letter or even of him visiting."

"Are you sure? He would have visited just after you left to come here. Didn't you see him?"

"No. Maybe he waited until we had arrived here before he went."

"Can't have done. He left on his horse towards her place about quarter of an hour before you arrived, and then rode back past only five minutes later, heading for London, and that was well before you arrived." That was odd, it was not as if you could hide that enormous chestnut horse of his.

"London. Is that where he is?"

Why is that important? Richard though, please focus on the problem Charlotte. "Yes, I suppose so, but it doesn't matter. So, Charlotte, are you sure you didn't see him?"

"No, but I had to look after Amy-Jane. She was playing up that morning. I'll ask Mrs Carter. I think she was home the rest of the day."

"Please do. Are you sure you didn't see him. Hard to miss Cicero, his chestnut."

"Of course I'm sure. Anyway what is in this letter?"

"Only the reason that Darcy has been acting like a bear with a sore head. Apparently he and Elizabeth had an argument. A very big argument. Did she say anything to you about it?"

"Well I did ask, but she said nothing. Except blush. Are you sure it was an argument Richard?"

"That is what Darcy said."

"Then why would she blush?" asked Charlotte

"I don't know. He did say that she disliked him."

"Of course. Didn't you know that?"

Richard though it odd that Elizabeth actually disliked Darcy enough that Charlotte knew about it? He did wonder what that was all about. "Darcy certainly didn't. I think he rather fancied her."

"Oh dear, that could have proven to be difficult in the long run. Still doesn't explain why she blushed and said I wouldn't believe what had happened… I wonder…" said Charlotte, tentatively.

"True. And we are still no closer to the truth."

"Don't interrupt me, Richard, I'm thinking…"

"Sorry."

"No problem, but, maybe… no… um… could be… Richard?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Mr Darcy could have… you know…" Richard noticed Charlotte was blushing. He though it rather fetching, really.

"Know… what?"

"Made an offer? You know to be his …" Richard didn't get the last bit, as Charlotte's head was turned down and away from him. Richard reached out and, with his hand, turned her head back to face him. She was bright red and looked very embarrassed.

"Come now Charlotte, we are good friends are we not?"

When she nodded, he continued, "So there is no need for embarrassment between us, is there?"

Again Charlotte nodded.

"So just say what you are thinking."

When she again tried to turn away, he held her chin, gently, but firmly so she couldn't.

"Right – out with it." Richard said firmly.

"Maybe… maybe he made her… made her an… an improper offer!"

"No! No, he couldn't, he wouldn't. Not Darcy. Not ever. No!. Oh dear, sorry Charlotte. Nothing wrong with the idea. But Darcy? No he couldn't. I know many that would, but not him." Richard though it astonishing that Charlotte could even have that idea?

"Are you sure? Elizabeth says he's had a ladybird before."

"She's wrong."

"But she…"

"She's wrong. I do not know a more honest, honourable man than Darcy."

"Oh. Elizabeth doesn't think so. Are you sure?"

"As sure as my own history. So what else does Elizabeth think about my cousin?"

From what Charlotte then described, with caveats that she did not necessarily agree with Elizabeth's view, it was like Elizabeth had described an entirely different person to Charlotte. None of what Charlotte related made any sense. Richard was able to clarify several misconceptions Charlotte had been told, but a lot of the time she did not know enough about why Elizabeth thought Darcy could be like that. As Richard was able to explain away some of the situations that Elizabeth misjudged, he could see Charlotte looking more relieved. It appeared that Charlotte also found Darcy, in person, not to be the man as Elizabeth described him to be, and she said that she had even argued with Elizabeth about it.

They both agreed that they (well, it would fall for Charlotte for the most part), that they best find out why Elizabeth could have got him so wrong. They both thought that with a bit more information, they might just be able to correct some of her obvious prejudice. Charlotte had just agreed to see if she could find out about the letter, which had precipitated the discussion, when they were interrupted by Amy-Jane, wanting to be entertained with the continuation of 'her' story. Richard exchanged a significant look with Charlotte before being allowed to be monopolised by the young girl.

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><p>When their guests had gone, Richard carefully interrogated Georgiana about what she might know of the causes for Darcy's recent behaviour, but she knew next to nothing. Certainly far less than he did.<p>

After Georgiana retired, Richard sat up with a brandy, thinking about all that he had heard today. He had recently discovered that Elizabeth disliked Darcy from what Darcy had said the day before he left, but from what Charlotte had related, it was a fairly intense dislike. He was not sure why, but it seemed important to him that he ensured that this was corrected, particularly since he thought Darcy to be one of the best men he knew. Well that at least, Richard thought, as he took another sip, was now in hand.

But they were no closer to finding out the content of the letter – which actually was just a way of finding out the nature of the argument between Darcy and Elizabeth. He still could not believe Darcy could countenance making an immoral offer. But Richard had a feeling, call it intuition, that neither Darcy nor Elizabeth would relate anything of what transpired unless they managed to piece together a lot of it already and were just asking for confirmation. But whatever it was, Richard was determined to help Darcy, if he could, and he was certain Charlotte would be doing the same for Elizabeth.

So in the end, it seemed to all come back to that letter.

As Richard went to sleep, he hoped that Charlotte was wrong about Darcy not visiting, as he was sure he could convince Charlotte to search for the letter, had it been handed over, and thus let him know what it contained.

* * *

><p>The next day bought intense disappointment. Darcy definitely had not visited, and there was no indication that he had ever delivered a letter. Charlotte, although not able to ask Elizabeth directly, was pretty certain Darcy had not even approached her house – apparently the next door neighbour was an invariant gossip, and knew everything about everyone in the area. Elizabeth was still under the weather, and so Charlotte while very apologetic, felt she could not press her for information, so had not learnt anything from her that would help.<p>

It took a long time to even find this out, as there were few opportunities to talk where it was certain others would not overhear, as they both did not want their friend's business to become common gossip.

It was when Richard was alone again that night, lying in his bed, that he had a sudden realisation. There was a simple explanation as to why a letter had not been delivered. Darcy had lost it! It would explain why, on that morning Darcy had searched the writing desk in his room. So maybe, just maybe he could find it, where Darcy, forced to be quiet, had not.

Unfortunately it had been several days, and mess of paper had long been tided away. For what might have been the very first time, Richard cursed the staff for being too good at their job. But there was always the possibility that something could have fallen in behind or underneath the desk. But when Richard tried, he found he could not bend down, so thought it best to wait until tomorrow, when, under some pretence or another (he'd think of something), he and Charlotte have time alone to look for it.

So it was the next morning, after Georgiana took Amy-Jane off to the music room, that Richard explained his theory as to why the letter had not been delivered to Charlotte, and she was happy to assist with the search. Somewhat apologetically, he asked Charlotte search down low, as he was still unable to. This did, however, afford him a rather pleasant view as she bent over. But enough distractions, he applied himself to his task. Not surprisingly, Charlotte found something, kicked well under the desk, where no one would consider looking for it.

So with much anticipation, and with the frisson of reading an illicit message, they smoothed out the paper and together they bent their heads to look at the writing before them…

"Be not alarmed, Elizabeth madam, on reading this. It does not reiterate contain any repetition renewal of my proposal offer of marriage which was so disgusting to you. Or of any sentiments that you so disliked. I write without intention of causing you pain paining you, or having to humble humbling myself. You must, therefore, pardon the liberty in approaching you this way freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but this demands I demand your attention justice.

'I have been accused of several immoral actions that I can only find abhorrent, so I insist Several offences, of very different natures, you laid to my charge. The first is totally unjustified, if you had bothered to either take time to understand my character or at the very least, asked those close to me regarding my honesty you

They worked through the various sentences, deciphering the crossed out parts and, almost as one, they turned to each other with wide eyed stares. At that moment Richard knew they were both thinking the exact same thing – Marriage! Darcy had proposed marriage!

But it was Charlotte that made the next connection. She voiced what he had not yet realised. "Richard, Mr Darcy made Elizabeth an offer. But… but… she must have refused him!"

Richard took several moments for this to sink in. Poor Darcy! No wonder he was in such a state. He must have been very taken with her to even consider the possibility, with all the downsides of her situation to his current reputation and standing to consider even making an offer.

This revelation led to a lot of excited conversation, considering the ramifications of Darcy actually making a proposal and what he could have said, and on what grounds Elizabeth might have decided to refuse it. Richard had some theories, some of which Charlotte agreed could be the case, others she disagreed with, on the basis she knew Elizabeth better than that, and also came up with a few theories of her own. But, without knowing what had actually transpired – the partial letter had been discarded before Darcy elucidated any of the 'offences' – it was hard to tell. A more thorough search of the area in and around the writing desk (which Richard nearly strained his leg while moving the desk) found nothing else.

As the search wound down without finding anything more, Richard remembered that Darcy had not finished when he'd kicked Darcy out to go downstairs, so the search moved to the desk in the library. Once again, unable to climb about under the desk Richard left that to Charlotte, and was again being presented with a most enjoyable view. To at least appear to be helping, Richard did carry out desultory search of the rest of the library, where he surprised himself by discovering a number of fragments of burnt paper, some with traces of writing on them, near the grate in the library fireplace.

On noticing this, Richard realised Darcy must not have lost the letter after all, and told Charlotte so. It seemed obvious to him that Darcy had never managed to write a letter he was happy with, and burnt all of his attempts that night or the very next morning, only missing the one under the desk upstairs – which also explained Darcy's odd actions sneaking in the following morning – which Charlotte found amusing as Richard demonstrated Darcy exaggerated movements. Richard concluded that Darcy's riding off in the direction of Elizabeth's residence before he left for London must have been to have one last look at what he had lost, not to deliver anything, as Richard first thought. Charlotte then asked what, if anything they both could do to help resolve the situation, as without something, any future meeting would be difficult if Darcy and Elizabeth could not occupy the same room together. The discussion continued, without coming to any conclusion, when Georgiana returned with Amy-Jane.

Richard and Charlotte had another opportunity to discuss this after the midday repast, as Amy-Jane suggested a game of hide and seek, giving the two 'oldies' an opportunity to sit this one out and talk further, if at times only in whispered asides. Thus the 'conspiracy' (as Richard decided to call it) was born, and so, in light of his military background, he assured Charlotte that this was the first part of any battle plan – 'know your enemy' or 'gathering military intelligence' – so Charlotte was reassigned as a Major in the Explorer Corp, to go behind the lines in the Carter household and gather what intelligence she could while Richard would see what intelligence he could extract from the enemy's dispatches – he then had to explain that this meant trying to learn as much as possible from the letters between him and Darcy. When no one was looking they sealed the deal with Charlotte taking part in a swearing-in ceremony.


	38. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 3

**Here is the next chapter, written instead of studying for an exam I have in the next 2 weeks, as it was Easter, and a holiday. So this is just fair warning the next chapter could be delayed by a week or so depending on how much study I've been able to do, before the exam.**.

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**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 3**

Having returned to London somewhat precipitously, there was only today's correspondence to deal with that morning, as everything prior had been forwarded to Ramsgate. Darcy's butler, Steele was most apologetic, but Darcy reassured him that it did not matter, he was happy just to wait for them to return.

In the mail this morning there were the usual invitations. None of which he had to attend as the most were entirely pro-forma, as he was important enough to receive invitations to events even though the hosts knew he was not in London, and thus unlikely to attend. But that was not going to last once it was known he had returned to London, something that would be very difficult to conceal for long. Then the invitations would flood in, particularly once the 1812 season officially started in a few weeks as soon as Parliament first sat for the year. From then he would be expected to attend any number of tedious dinners and dances, so yet another string of 'diamonds of the first water' debutantes could be dangled in front of him, by fathers hoping to entice him to make an offer. But they'd all be pretty enough, but insipid, boring, simpering with no spirit, just saying what they thought he wanted to hear. None of them would hold a candle to Elizabeth.

Damn! Why did he need to constantly think of what he had lost! Maybe lost now, but not for good, thought Darcy. I only have to get my letter worded correctly, and she will see how big a mistake she has made. Once I know she will say yes, I'll be able to repeat my offer.

Well his stay in London won't be that bad, as his Aunt, the Countess of Matlock, was still in Scotland with Cousin Victoria and her new son. Ever since his mother's passing, her and his other aunt, Lady Catherine, seemed to think they needed to be a substitute mother to him, even though if there was one, it would be his Grandmother Fitzwilliam, the Dowager Countess. Darcy was not sure which aunt, when it came down to it, was worse:

Lady Catherine was by far the worse in person, but he only had to see her once or twice a year. There was the unavoidable visit in Easter, to sort out the accounts, usually a shambles, not helped by her poor management of Rosings Park. Darcy found it he could only deal with her dictatorial air, oh, and her unshakeable belief that he was to marry Anne, for short periods of time. Thankfully his father let him know the true story as to why Lady Catherine perpetuated this myth. She had set her cap at his father, well more honestly, at becoming mistress of Pemberley (and was willing to accept the downside of his father as a husband to do so) but was mortally insulted when his father married her younger sister instead. Thus she wanted her daughter to become mistress of Pemberley where she had failed. But with all of that, she rarely came to town, so Darcy only had to see her when he chose to visit and could always leave if it became too much.

Whereas his other aunt, the Countess was much nicer in person, but he could not easily avoid her and her constant matchmaking, anytime he was in London. It was not like he could refuse to attend events she hosted, and invariably, if she knew he was in town, there were at least one, often several eligible maidens (with their family to make it acceptable) invited to even the most intimate of events, often hurriedly invited only after he'd RSVPed his acceptance. And as he had to be in town regularly, and at times considerable lengths of time, he was exposed to her unwanted machinations much more frequently. In fact, her activities meant Darcy avoided coming to London any time during the height of the season, if he could help it. It had got so bad as he got older and was still unwed, that he welcomed the unavoidable obligation to see Lady Catherine in the weeks following Easter.

Darcy did wonder if Aunt's Catherine insistence for him to visit Rosings at that time was deliberate, to cause him to miss most of the debutante's balls and routs, hoping the best to already be picked off, so her chance of snaring him for Anne was enhanced.

Darcy knew he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors, and it had been so for several years now. He knew, from overheard conversation, he was generally rated higher than many gentlemen that were heir to a minor title or two. That made Elizabeth's rejection all the more incomprehensible. Maybe Elizabeth didn't know just how wealthy he was or the full extent of his connections? She had spent the first part of her life in a sleepy rural town, well outside the extent of London gossip, and more recent years in Ramsgate. Darcy realised that his natural modesty had meant he had said little about how large Pemberley was or the extent of his annual income, and he doubted that Georgiana or Richard would have conveyed it either. Darcy had to admit he was used to everyone knowing his income and having heard of the great estate of Pemberley, it usually spread around the room like lightning, as soon as he walked into anywhere new.

Darcy wondered how he could go about adding that information, casually so it did not seem as if he was boasting, which was not his intention, so Elizabeth would be making her decision from a position of understanding the full extent of her change in status, once she chose to accept him. Maybe he could reassure her that he would allow her to have the normal authority over the household, he would not hold her lack of knowledge in this area against her, and take on the task himself. Not wanting to lose the thread of his idea, Darcy got out a fresh page and wrote several paragraphs while the inspiration was still fresh.

Actually, Darcy found in describing in some detail the extent of her future duties it was quite possible to elucidate his income and convey the size of Pemberley without seeming to boast at all. He did not have to quote his actual income, which was, in truth, well in excess of the ten thousand pounds that it was rumoured to be. This was one area that Darcy had repeatedly let a falsehood pass by, regardless of how much knowing it was wrong needled him.

Without realising it, Darcy spend the whole morning (and about 4 full pieces of paper that ended in the fire) before getting this addition to the letter right. Feeling happy with the final wording, he got out his original letter to try to see where best insert it. After reading the original several times over, there were two, maybe three places it could be added, but it would depend on the eventual finished product. In the end Darcy decided to write out the properly crafted paragraphs on a separate piece of paper, and then ripped off the excess paper.

Inspired by this, Darcy realised he could do this for each part, i.e. the introduction, the rebuttal of each of his imagined offences and then the conclusion, so he could work on each separately, and then later assemble them in to a coherent whole. So inspired, Darcy proceeded to write the title of each part on the top of a new page, and then copy out that section from the original. Carefully folding the original, he got up and placed it in the safe buried in the wall of his office. Realising that he had spent the entire morning in his office, neglecting his other duties, Darcy carefully locked away all of the papers and left the office. After partaking in luncheon, he dealt with his other duties. Once he had finished these, Darcy decided to retire for the evening to his club, where he was able to catch up with those of his acquaintances that had already returned to Town, and to learn of the current political, military and economic situation.

To his annoyance, Darcy was collared by a fellow Derbyshire landowner, a Mr Sampson, who spent nearly an hour bending his ear on some local Derby matter that he thought had already been settled, but clearly Mr Sampson didn't think so. When he was finally able to escape, Darcy was worried that he might have accepted a dinner invitation in the attempt to get away.

* * *

><p>The next day, Darcy first had to deal with the usual level of correspondence which, to his annoyance, included an invite to the Sampson's this evening. He did wonder if he could find something a more enjoyable so that he could belatedly decline the Sampson's on the grounds of a prior engagement. But, regardless of how temping it was, it was just a bit too dishonest to consider. So, however reluctantly, Darcy replied confirming his attendance, and sent a footman to deliver it personally.<p>

Once the mail was out of the way, Darcy started by working on the introduction, but after an hour of pointless edits, he realised he wasn't achieving anything. Anyway it was time for a midday meal, so it was best if he put it aside until later. After lunch, with no further inspiration for the introduction, Darcy changed tack and spent the rest of the day re-crafting first one and then most of another section of the letter, to much better effect.

Very unwillingly, Darcy had to cease and get ready for the evening. Once ready, Darcy started to ask for the carriage to be prepared, but remembered it was still in Ramgsate, so walked to the Sampson's residence instead. That it started to rain heavily on the way, so Darcy arrived with water dripping down the back of his neck, heralded the way that the rest of the evening went as well.

Darcy had forgotten that Mr Sampson had two unwed daughters, both a bit long in the tooth, so the remaining guest list was made of those that would ensure they had no competition. It did not really matter that much as Miss Sampson and Miss Olivia themselves fought for his attention the entire dinner, and as this was usually done by denigrating the other, it was fairly unpleasant and often embarrassing. There were a number of occasions their mother had to intervene when the comments became too personal. Darcy was more than pleased when the dinner was over and the remaining guests arrived for the evening entertainment. But it appeared that the Sampson's had failed here as well, as the singer and her accompaniment could only be charitably described as well intentioned. Darcy concluded she must have been a relative, as he could not possibly imagine someone paying for this, or the singer having the audacity to charge.

Darcy excused himself as soon as was polite, making vague mention of having unavoidable activities early the next day. He didn't even bother to wait to share another's carriage, chose instead to walk home again, even though it was still raining. The rain was lighter, but the swirling winds meant it was still able to escape past the brim of his hat and end up down the back of his neck.

Well, thought Darcy, as he climbed the steps to Darcy House, bloody typical. And people wondered why he avoided most of these sorts of events. This time it took only the one event to put him off. As the footman opened the door, he vowed to avoid any event he did not have to attend.

* * *

><p>The next day Darcy had to deal with an increased amount of mail and invitations, his arrival appeared to be common knowledge now, most likely after his attendance of the White's several days ago, but the invitations were easy, as he kept to his vow to avoid all of them. But in with the usual correspondence, the mail sent to Ramsgate had returned. Included, now several days late, was an urgent letter from David Brown regarding leases on the lower south pasture that required Darcy to spend some time digging up and perusing a number of old legal documents, as additional copies of these were held at the Darcy House in London for safe keeping. All the time while dealing with this, Darcy just wanted to put it all to one side and get on with finishing re-crafting the letter, but forced himself to stick with it, as if he didn't do it now, it would only be waiting for him tomorrow.<p>

As he took a break and had a little to eat, prior to continuing with the letter, Darcy noted the weather had cleared, so rather than start directly, he took the opportunity to exercise Cicero, travelling north and east until he found a suitable point to allow his large stallion to have its head. Once the chestnut showed signs of slowing, Darcy reined him in to first a canter, then a trot, and finally a walk as he returned to Darcy house. He felt like that had blown the cobwebs from his head and invigorated for the work ahead.

A long while later Darcy sat up, feeling a little stiff, but finally satisfied with the wording for the section he started yesterday. It was a bit longer, at a little over a page, than he thought best, but there was nothing to be done about that. It had taken considerably more time than he had expected, as the sun was now streaming at a shallow angle across the office, so must be close to setting.

Standing and stretching, Darcy looked down at what else he had to do. Only two more sections left. Looking at both, he picked up the section that related to Elizabeth's sister Jane and Bingley and read through what he had written in the first letter. After thinking for a moment, Darcy scribbled a brief note and summoned a footman to deliver it to Bingley. He then put that section aside as there was no point carrying on with that section until Charles had replied.

Still in the right frame of mind to carry on, Darcy lit some candles to make up for the fading light, and picked up the last section to edit. He was doing well, so instead of stopping for dinner, Darcy arranged for a selection of cold cuts, pickles and cheese with freshly baked bread to be delivered to him in his office instead. Thus, well provisioned for the night, Darcy kept working.

It was only as the flames of the candles guttered out that Darcy realised he been at it all evening and a good deal of the night as it was half past eleven. He wasn't all that unhappy that it was now too late to change into evening wear and go to any of the events he'd received a belated invites to over the last couple of days. Hopefully everyone would just assume he'd gone somewhere else. Still he'd rather not see the New Year in alone or go to bed just yet, it was a bit too much like he'd turned into a grumpy old hermit for his liking.

Hearing the sounds of the household servants drifting up from downstairs, Darcy hoped they might not be too put out if he decided to join them. Decision made, Darcy packed up what he had been working on and locked it all away, before blowing out the remaining candles and heading in the direction of the sounds of celebration.

As he expected, the assembled staff quickly stopped what they had been doing and saying as soon as he descended the stairs. They all stood there and carefully, most with looks of concern, followed Darcy's progress as he walked over to Steele.

"What can I do for you sir? Did you ring? We did not hear the bell." Steele sounded quite concerned.

"Do not worry, I did not ring."

"Then what can we do for you, sir."

"Nothing Steele. I just felt like sharing the New Year with others, and it was too late to go out."

"Very well, sir. Well, everyone, you heard the master, he wishes to join us in welcoming in the New Year. Carry on." The silence was slowly being replaced by the low sound of quiet conversations.

"Steele, maybe you would like to open the cellar to assist with the celebration."

"Very good sir. Dowling, come give me a hand to bring up a few bottles."

"Make it several cases Steele."

"Thank you, sir. Humphries, come help me and Dowling with the wine."

"Thank you Steele, I'll go and see how Mrs Taylor is doing."

Darcy walked over towards Mrs Taylor, a bubble of silence followed him around the room. Where he wasn't, the noise levels and activity returned to a facsimile of what it was, but immediately around him everyone looked more worried than happy. Darcy chatted with Mrs Taylor. He was surprised to discover that she had three grandchildren, one born within a week of Lisa, Hannah's daughter. Darcy did wonder why Mrs Taylor bought up the name of another child as if he was supposed to know who she was. It took a moment, but Darcy realised Lisa was the daughter of Hannah, the maid that had Summerville's by-blow, so Lisa was Amy-Jane's half-sister.

Speaking of Hannah, Darcy looked around and saw her, and realised she had noticed him looking at her. He acknowledged her with a smile and a nod. She must have thought it was a summons, as she then hurried over. When Hannah arrived, she was most effusive about a birthday present he had got for her daughter. He glanced at Mrs Taylor, knowing she'd know what this was all about. Mrs Taylor reminded him how, as he had to go off to Ramsgate to deal with the nasty Mr Wickham, he had asked her to give Hannah the birthday present he had bought for Lisa. Darcy made light of it, now remembering writing the instruction for Mrs Taylor to deal with it.

The celebration was still subdued, but thankfully the wine Steele was handing out started to take effect and the staff were loosening up a little. Darcy realised he didn't really belong here. If he stayed too long he'd continue to be a damper on their celebration, so best to leave soon after midnight. So Darcy chatted with Mrs Taylor and Steele until it was midnight. Once the clock struck 12, he asked for quiet. Raising his glass, he thanked everyone for the excellent work they had done last year, and wished them all a very good 1812, to heart-felt best wishes in return. At that he drank the rest of his wine, thanked the staff again and left upstairs for his rooms and bed.

* * *

><p>There was no reply from Bingley in the morning's mail, which was unexpected, as last reports, Bingley had returned to London before Christmas. Darcy hoped he'd not fallen back to drinking heavily, best visit to find out. Better get there mid-morning to ensure Bingley was not too far gone.<p>

After dealing with the rest of the mail, Darcy got dressed and walked the few blocks to the Bingley's townhouse. The day was overcast but not cold or damp, so he rather enjoyed the stroll. On arrival Hulme ushered him into the parlour (not the library – that's odd, thought Darcy), where he was greeted by a widely smiling Caroline.

"Mr Darcy, so wonderful for you to come and see us."

"Good morning, Miss Bingley."

"Have you met Mrs Robert Ferris, Mrs John Dashwood, Miss Appleby and Miss Fredrica Appleby?"

Darcy now noticed a number of ladies in the room, no doubt partaking in a morning of malicious gossip over tea and cake. The Appleby's he knew, but the other two were unknown to him, and he greeted each in turn. Miss Appleby had been (still was?) a good friend of Caroline, until she also decided to try to snare him, where they became rivals in their own minds, as Darcy certainly had no intention of marrying either of them.

"It is a pity you arrived just as they were leaving Mr Darcy." Said Caroline cattily. That was rather pointed, Caroline can be rather crass in her rivalry. The other ladies had no choice but to put their cups down and make their farewells.

Once the others had gone, Darcy continued to stand while Caroline retook her seat.

"Miss Bingley, I was actually here to visit Charles. Is he well?"

"I do not know Mr Darcy. He left for the north only a week ago."

"He's gone north again?"

"Yes. It was a pity you were not here this time. My silly brother continues to pine for that unsuitable woman."

"Jane Bennet?"

"That's the one. What he sees in her after all I did to convince him she was not suitable. Thankfully you were able to convince him to not see her again. What did you say?"

"When was I supposed to have convinced him?"

"It was just before you raced off to Ramsgate to be so heroic in stopping that vicious criminal, Mr Wickham. And to think you could have been shot!"

"It was nothing. So he did not see her after I left?"

"You were so brave. It made the papers. Not the front page, and didn't mention you by name. But I made sure everyone knew it was about you!"

"Thanks." Said Darcy sarcastically, but it appeared that Caroline didn't notice his tone of voice.

"Don't mention it. It was the talk of the town for at least a few days, once they knew it was you. I thought you must have been very brave. Was it frightening?"

"Happened too fast to be frightened. It's not important. Anyway, I did not convince him not to see her, I told him to find out her intentions."

"Well that was obvious to the rest of us. Charles wouldn't see it. But I could tell she was after his money and connections, so I ensured he didn't see her again. And since you agreed with me, it was easy to convince Louisa about her, so we both worked on him until he relented and agreed with our and your opinion about her."

Now Darcy was confused, Bingley's letter had talked about his sisters confirming her nature, he'd assumed they'd found out something specific, but it sounded like it was just Caroline's dislike of the lady, which could apply to most women. However, best to make sure, so he asked. "So you had no confirmation she had mercenary motives?"

"Confirmation? I didn't need confirmation, I could just tell. I am a woman after all. It is not like I could expect a man to understand these things."

"Oh. I suppose Charles was able to find out something then."

"Not him, he was blindly in love, as usual. Thankfully when he was about to give in and see her again, you turned up and talked him out of it."

"Talked him out of it?"

"Yes, you remember. He'd started drinking too much and being pig-headed about seeing her, every time it took me longer and longer to convince him not to. In the end we had to move out it was so unpleasant. That was the reason why he left this time too, said he was sick of hearing from me, but I refused to leave this time. It's my house too."

Darcy made a non-committal noise while he tried to work out how this changed things. To find out what had actually happened, he needed to talk to Charles.

"So when will Charles be expected back?"

"That's the problem. He says he's not coming back to Town, not for a long time. He's even threatened to stop leasing this house and move us all back north. Can you imagine?"

Darcy found that hard to imagine. Charles had lived mostly in London since he'd left university. A good deal of his remaining business interests were here. Oh, he'd talked about finding an estate to purchase to fulfil his father's wish, but Charles away from the social whirl of London? It was hard to imagine.

"Maybe I can write to him?"

"That would be good. He's stopped listening to me, maybe he'll listen to you."

"I'll do that. Best be off, to write it straight away. Sounds like the need is pressing."

"You can't stay for a little while Mr Darcy?"

"No sorry. Goodbye Caroline."

"Goodbye Mr Darcy."

Darcy allowed Caroline to show him out, politely countering the additional requests to stay, and avoided agreeing to a dinner, particularly now he knew Bingley was away. This meeting today would cause no small amount of gossip. Best to continue on to the club, as it then could be explained as popping in to see a friend on the way there.

* * *

><p>The entire way to the club, and while at White's Darcy could not help but think about what he had just been told. Did that mean that Charles had not tried to find out her motivation? He'd always assumed that Bingley, or at least his sisters, had discovered something about Jane that made it an actual misalliance. Maybe there wasn't. He knew Charles sometimes relied on others' opinions more often than he should, but he had not expected this. Damn! He should have questioned Charles in more detail when he had returned from Ramsgate before Christmas.<p>

But what's done is done. I certainly can't change it now. Anyway Elizabeth's sister should have made her desires and intentions more obvious, so there is fault on both sides. Still it rankled that Darcy's rebuttal at the time was based on what could well be incorrect information. Annoyed with himself, with Charles, and also with Elizabeth and her sister Jane, Darcy was short with those that bothered him while at Whites. Realising he was being antisocial, he returned home, so he didn't inflict himself and his mood on others.

So Darcy returned home and wrote to Bingley, ensuring it got into the post that day. Rather than deal with the only section left, which involved Bingley and Elizabeth's sister, Darcy reread the work he'd already done. In doing so he noticed a few poorly worded sentences, so spent time fixing those bits. The rest of the day involved working on the introduction. Darcy felt it didn't need too much work, it already was close to the balance between applying to her sense of fairness and his desire not to humble himself to someone that deliberately chose to mistake his actions and motives. Probably to Steele and Mrs Taylor's disgust, Darcy chose again to eat in the office, although this time it was not as late, when Darcy sat back, satisfied with his work.

The next day Darcy started work on the conclusion. Coming to a block in crafting it, Darcy decided to take a break by reading the earliest finished section of his letter, the one that started this approach, that by listing her future duties, laid out in front of her his consequence and income that she'd assume once they were married. He reread it several times, growing more despondent each time. My God! How condescending, how proud and boastful. Darcy could not believe he had ever thought this was acceptable. It was complete rubbish, only suitable for the fire!

Pacing the room in consternation, Darcy grabbed another section that he thought he'd finished. It was as bad! Rubbish.

Combine this... this rubbish... that was the best he thought he could do, with the fairly obvious conclusion that his friend had actually dashed her sister's hopes by him severing ties with her, for no reason other than the advice of a clearly biased Caroline, was there any chance of Elizabeth doing anything other than throw the thing into the nearest fire? Unlikely.

Darcy felt like screaming. He could see his house of cards collapsing. Changing her mind via a letter!

Hubris and vanity!

He gathered the whole lot up and part screwing it into a ball, part ripping it up, consigned the pages and pages of stupid, wasted effort into the fire.

And watched it burn.

As it should.

Just as his dreams had gone up in flames, all those days ago.

He'd just been too stupid to realise it.

All that wasted effort.

Futile.

Pathetic.

Once all of it was ash Darcy went over to the bureau and poured himself a stiff brandy, tossed it back and poured another. A few more brandies and Darcy started seeing Charles attraction for it. They both had, through no fault other than their own actions had lost the women they desired.

If the woman wanted to wilfully mistake his intentions or actions. If she wanted to believe him the worst of people, she can go right ahead. It was not as if he should care.

By the time the bottle was empty, Darcy had forgotten anything other than his sense of misery. He started on the next bottle, whiskey this time, kept for Charles' sake. That just reminded him of why he was drinking, so he tossed back one, then two glasses of fine whiskey as well.

Damn her, damn her and him and all of them. He'd show her!

There were plenty of other fish in the sea! (and if he told himself that often enough he might even believe it). Well if he was going to start, he might as well start immediately. Thought about getting up and looking through the current pile of invites, but decided to leave it until tomorrow.

He'd just have another drink instead...

* * *

><p>Darcy woke with a sore head and only a vague idea of just how he got to bed. But he remembered his vow. He'd show her. There were any number of events he'd been invited, he'd get over her. She was gone now, gone for good.<p>

Time to move on.

If he could move without feeling like he wanted to vomit.

Steele came in personally and, without saying anything, offered him a cup of a greenish grey liquid. Darcy downed it in the same manner he'd been tossing the drink back last night.

Ugh! My god that was foul. Darcy grimaced, but started to feel better almost immediately, so the horrid taste was forgotten as the concoction did its work.

Steele came back in about half an hour and, brushing off the liberal thanks of his master, proceeded to help Darcy dress for the day. While the sunlight was too bright, he wasn't feeling too badly.

Remembering his vow, he looked at all the invites, both new this morning and previously and sorted them into those he could not ever consider, those that he might consider, and those that might even be enjoyable. The last pile was rather thin, so he sorted through the middle pile again.

Over the next week Darcy spent one day attending all the events he could stomach; smiling and flirting, dancing (but only one dance) with any unmarried maiden at each event. The second day was spent regretting everything he did the day before and hiding out from everyone, to the point of having to send apology letters to the events he'd accepted only yesterday.

By the end of the first week, Darcy had got used to the social life (even if he was not yet enjoying it, but at least he was trying, and thought he would eventually), and so he went the next week without skipping out on any event. The relentless entertaining started playing havoc on his normal routine. With balls or dances not often finishing until the wee small hours, or even dawn, Darcy's household had to rapidly adjust to a master that now only came in as they woke for the day, and didn't wake until close to noon.

* * *

><p>Each morning (although it was nearly afternoon when he did it) he'd carefully sort through the morning mail for Bingley's letter, but to no avail. However that morning, Darcy received an invite from someone else, someone he could not refuse, even though it was very short notice:<p>

_My dearest grandson, Fitzwilliam_

_I request you attend me at your earliest convenience, although I doubt that will be  
>before noon, with the way you have been behaving.<em>

_I will be available at 1 o'clock today._

_Yours,_

_Grandma Fitzwilliam._


	39. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 4

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 4**

Elizabeth woke late. For the first time for a number of days, her head wasn't pounding, her nose was clear and her throat was no longer sore. As she sat up, she realised that she must have shaken her head cold sometime in the night, and had the first decent night sleep for a while.

Bounding out of bed, with real energy, Elizabeth realised that it must be at least mid-morning already. Oh dear, Amy-Jane. Hurriedly dressing, Elizabeth raced downstairs to nearly bowl over Mrs Carter in the hall.

"Whoa, there dear. So glad to see you up and about finally. I take it you are feeling much better?"

"Much better Mrs Carter. How is... Where is Amy-Jane?"

"Don't worry dear. Miss Lucas has taken her to the Darcy's house."

"The Darcy's?"

"Charlotte said you can join them if you are up."

"Oh." Well that must mean she'd not been banned then. "I'll just have a bite to eat, I'm famished, and then I'll join them, if that is alright with you."

"Certainly Lizzie. There is some still warm peas porridge or fresh bread and cheese. Help yourself. I'll be back about lunch if you don't go."

"Goodbye Mrs Carter."

"Bye, dear. Glad to see you up and about."

"So am I Mrs Carter." And with that Mrs Carter let herself out the front door.

Once Elizabeth entered the kitchen, she realised just how hungry she was. After eating enough for two, Elizabeth decided she'd best stop, although she could eat more, and went upstairs to change into something suitable for visiting.

* * *

><p>With some trepidation, Elizabeth walked up the steps to the Darcy house, not entirely sure whether she'd be allowed in or not. That Amy-Jane was still welcome was possibly an indication, but still, now that Richard and possibly Georgiana new of her shame, how would they be towards her.<p>

But they let her in without any ceremony and led her into the library, where Colonel Richard was exercising his leg, with the occasional wince and off colour word. Elizabeth noticed he reddened when he saw her arrive.

Oh dear, he knows.

"Good morning Colonel."

"Morning Elizabeth. So it's back to Colonel is it? It was Richard a few weeks ago."

"Sorry Colonel. But it is for the best."

"If you say so."

"I do. Where are the others?"

"Oh. Amy-Jane wanted to see a real pirate ship, so Charlotte and Georgiana decided to take her down towards the docks, to see a British Naval warship, which we all assured her was much better."

"I'll go then. You'll not want me here, if you are by yourself."

"Nonsense, well, not unless you want to go. Please stay, keep an old soldier company."

"Are you sure, given what you know now?"

"I don't see how it changes things."

"I'm not sure if Mr Darcy told you the full story."

"I'm certain he didn't."

Well, thought Elizabeth, I can always trust Mr Darcy to only tell the worst of it. Well, best get this out of the way, to ensure that he knows the whole story, not just part of it.

"Can I tell you it all? So you don't have to rely on his version?"

"No problem. I'm all ears. It should help clear things up, and for the better."

Well at least Richard is willing to listen.

"So, you now know that your brother Viscount Sumerville is Amy-Jane's father. But I doubt you've been told of the circumstances."

"That is true. But tell only what you are comfortable in relating. I'll understand."

So with that Elizabeth related her story, slowly and hesitantly at first, starting with the bare facts surrounding what happened that night. But without realising it, Richard's skilled 'hmms' and 'then what's' meant Elizabeth became more fluid and effusive as she told of the events that led up to that night, and the consequences afterwards, and far more completely than she originally intended. But it was cathartic to be able to tell him how his brother's actions had affected her and how it led to her ruin and the hardship that arose from that, but also the blessing of her daughter, Amy-Jane.

Probably the most heartening was how absolutely delighted Richard appeared once he realised that Amy-Jane was his niece. It seemed odd that he'd not made the connection with what Mr Darcy had related, but Richard appeared genuinely surprised and also very happy to have the personal connection. Elizabeth thought she heard him mutter 'Amy-Jane, another niece, well I never' or words to that effect several times while she related the history of how her whole family was affected almost as much as she herself was, and particularly in Jane case, totally undeserving of this fate.

Elizabeth could tell Richard was very sympathetic to her situation, and also that of her family, and at times, particularly when she added later, more detail about the actions of his brother, he became very agitated and visibly angry. He told her that the immoral actions of his brother were not unknown to him or his father. He was disappointed in that his father always chose to cover up any instances Richard knew about, although Elizabeth was the only lady from the gentry he now knew to have been ruined. Somehow, that was both worse and better to know. Elizabeth was grateful it appeared no other gentlewoman had been put in her position, but wondered what sort of life those of the lower classes could possibly have after being ruined by a peer. Although from, now personal experience, they seemed to handle it better, maybe because the fall was not so far.

But, with everything she said, and with the few questions she answered, Elizabeth never felt like she was being judged, or if she was being judged without her knowing it, she was not found wanting. It was funny how Richard seemed have similar acceptance of her fallen condition as with Charlotte. It was like she no longer considered him to be from the set of 'gentlemen' in her mind, the group of people she had always found to be untrustworthy.

Once Elizabeth had finished, and Richard had finished asking his few questions, there was a pause in the conversation. Elizabeth sat there wanting to ask the two questions she needed to know the answer to, but was still afraid to ask. She kept hoping for Richard to come up with a new topic or something, anything to talk about, but Elizabeth supposed she had given him a lot to think about, particularly given it was very likely to be different from Mr Darcy's version.

As the sound of the mantle clock escarpment went clack, clack, her need became more and more urgent, until Elizabeth just had to ask.

"Richard?" He looked up and smiled warmly, as Elizabeth realised he noticed she had fallen back to calling him Richard again, but it seemed the right thing to do.

"Yes, Elizabeth."

"You won't tell your brother or the rest of your family will you?" Here was one of her greatest fears, the Earl discovering it and trying to force them to marry, or take Amy-Jane off her.

"No. But are you sure you…"

"No. Never tell him. Ever."

"Can I at least hit him on your behalf?"

"No! Then he'll ask why, and it might mean I'd have to marry him, or your father might try to take Amy-Jane off me."

"Oh, well you can rest assured marriage will not be a problem. You see, Sumerville got married recently. It was a hushed up affair just before I got shot. As for the other, father is far more likely to want the whole thing covered up than recognising a granddaughter in these circumstances. He's very particular about preserving the noble Matlock bloodlines."

Elizabeth could only feel relief from finding this out. Being forced to marry the Viscount to restore her family was a particular dread of hers, but it was a sacrifice she would be hard pressed to refuse. Particularly for what it would do for Jane, because if she became a Viscountess, it would give her Jane the best possible chance of a reasonable life, by the very connection that would be most reprehensible to Elizabeth. Having the family take Amy-Jane off her, was another of Elizabeth's fears, as the mother had no rights under the law, but her main protection was as a natural daughter, Amy-Jane had no value to the family. But families can be strange, and do unusual things. Elizabeth had seen it before, right here in Ramsgate.

Elizabeth could only assume the relief was plain on her face when Richard continued.

"Do not worry about either. If you want, I can write to the Dowager Countess. I am sure she would support you, once I explain. She is the real ruler of our family, my father would never consider going against her wishes."

"No, don't. I don't want others to know."

"If that is your wish."

"It is." Elizabeth suddenly realised she still had to ask the other question. "Since he told you, did he tell Georgiana? And will Mr Darcy tell the rest of your family?"

"Of course not. I am certain of it."

"But how can you be so sure."

"I know him like a brother. If he didn't tell me, I doubt he'd tell anyone else."

"He didn't tell you? But…" Now Elizabeth was confused. "But, you said he didn't tell you the entire story."

"He said very little, other than you had an argument. But there was more to it than that, wasn't there?"

Elizabeth suddenly felt very embarrassed. She hadn't needed to tell Richard any of this. Suddenly she was very angry.

"You, you… You tricked me! You confirmed that you knew Amy-Jane was your niece. You did, right at the start. That was very underhanded of you!"

"No, no I didn't. You told me that yourself. I even told you to only tell me what you were happy to tell me. But I have to say, I am very glad you did, I now know I have another niece."

"Don't try to confuse me. It was not like that." But Elizabeth started to realise she had just assumed Mr Darcy would have told his cousin, if not all, at least the worst of it. As she thought about it she had a growing realisation Richard might just be right.

Richard continued in a conciliatory tone. "If you think back, you did bring it up. But if I have caused you any consternation, I sincerely apologise, but I could not have known you did not wish to talk of it."

Elizabeth thought back on how she had approached the conversation, charging in like an enraged bull, so full of indignation, absolutely certain of her understanding of Mr Darcy, and wanting to tell Richard her side, to refute what she just assumed his cousin had told him.

"I suppose I did bring it up."

"And I feel very privileged that you trust me enough to tell me of it."

"Oh." Elizabeth felt deflated, all her anger gone. There was also that growing realisation that she might have misjudged Mr Darcy actions in this matter.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes."

"Why did you think my cousin would have told me about your daughter?"

"Um… Well, Mr Darcy dislikes me so, I just assumed… assumed he'd tell you more of my sordid past to support his desire to have me banned from visiting."

"So you think Darcy doesn't want you to visit?"

'He's said so"

"But not recently."

"Alright not recently, but I know he dislikes me."

"Darcy dislikes you?"

"Of course he dislikes me. It's obvious."

"Obvious? Is it really?"

"Yes, how could you say otherwise? He's disliked me ever since he met me and tried to warn Georgie off making my acquaintance."

"So he's done nothing since that indicates anything other than dislike?" Richard said looking and sounding a little incredulous at her answer.

Elizabeth could not understand why Richard was so insistent. "No. He's not. He only looks to find fault."

"Oh, I see. So nothing he's done, nothing recently, might suggest anything other than dislike?"

"No, why do you keep asking this?"

"No reason. No reason at all. It is just that he's not given me that impression."

"Well he treats people of his rank different than those he considers beneath him."

"I have to agree that he can be a conceited arse… oh, sorry… a conceited idiot at times, but it is just his way. He doesn't mean it."

"You're biased, because he's family."

"And you've been totally objective?"

Elizabeth was starting to get annoyed with him, why couldn't he let it rest.

"Look there is no point trying to convince me, I know what I know."

"Fine. I won't argue further."

"Good. If you do you'll lose."

"Yes, I'm sure I will." Richard paused, looking out the window. Elizabeth was pleased he had done so. She realised that Mr Darcy was his good friend as well as his cousin, so Richard's attempt to change her mind about him was understandable. But it would be nice if he wasn't so insistent.

Richard had been looking out the window for a while, so Elizabeth also looked to see what had caught his interest. It must have been the naval warship sailing east to the channel. No wonder it had caught his eye, with full sail, each bowed round by the wind, it was a magnificent sight.

After they both watched this for a while, Richard cleared his throat. This caused Elizabeth to turn towards him again.

"Elizabeth, can you remember Mrs Younge?"

"Sure, she was Georgie's companion, the one that was in league with the man that died."

"Mr Wickham."

"Yes, him. She was arrested when he was shot."

"So Elizabeth, what happened to her?"

"Well, I understand she was arrested for stealing Georgiana's necklace."

"She was. Then what?"

Once again Elizabeth could not understand why Richard would be bringing this up. Surely he knew what happened with her. Maybe Mr Darcy hadn't told him. He didn't seem to tell him much after all.

"Well she'd have gone to trial. Up in front of Lord Roskill. I suppose she been hung by now."

"Did you know that Darcy attended the trial?"

"No. But it wouldn't surprise me."

"Wouldn't it? But why would he?"

"Do see justice done of course. Couldn't let someone that stole off him not be properly punished. You know, to make sure the Magistrate got the sentence right."

"Did you know Darcy and I argued over the sentence?"

"Doesn't surprise me. I suppose you didn't convince him to change his mind?"

"Not in the slightest. In that way he's a bit like you."

"He is not!"

"I bow to your superior knowledge. He's not like you at all. But as I was saying he got to have his way, of course. He even made a special visit to the Magistrate to ensure it."

"He needed not bother, there's not been a criminal that Lord Roskill didn't think could be improved by adding a few inches to their neck!" Elizabeth could not help but express her vehemence as to the injustice of the local 'hanging judge' Lord Roskill.

"Is that right? Is not the measure of the man in how he treats those that trespass against him?"

"And Mr Darcy must have got his wish then, Lord Roskill would have been happy to oblige."

"I wouldn't say happy, but no magistrate like to be told how they are to sentence those convicted. But he did sentence her as Darcy's wanted. Now remember you agree that the sentence is the measure of the man."

"Oh yes, I've already agreed to that." Elizabeth let her annoyance show in her voice and her agitated movements.

"Good. I'm glad. I'm glad." Richard was smiling as if he'd score a major point, but as far as Elizabeth could see there wasn't one. Having made his point (whatever that was, he continued, abruptly changing subject, "Oh, we'll have to cut this discussion short Elizabeth. It looks like the others are back."

Elizabeth stood there dumbfounded as Richard got up to the sound of the front door opening. As he limped over towards the hall, he turned for a moment and cryptically said. "One last thing Elizabeth. Find out what actually happened to Mrs Younge. Do that for me, would you?"

By now Elizabeth would have agreed to anything to stop this futile argument. "Yes, yes."

He must dislike not having the last word, as she heard him say "Good. I'll hold you to that" as he hobbled to the hall to greet the returnees, Elizabeth following close behind.

* * *

><p>Amy-Jane was very happy to see her mother up and about, and in a rush of words and jumble of ideas, she shared the latest of the story that Richard had been spinning regarding the Dreaded Purple Pirates. The others added their two pence worth, adding funny anecdotes and embellishing on the main thrust of the story, but only making the confusing narrative less understandable. Both Charlotte and Georgiana took a moment out of the frenetic retelling to also express how delighted they were to see her recovered. For a moment Elizabeth felt how lucky she was to have such friends, ones that genuinely cared for her.<p>

Once the recap was finished, Amy-Jane insisted on Richard continuing the story, which he seemed very happy to do. However as he sat Amy-Jane climbed up on his lap, and snuggled into his chest. Elizabeth noticed several significant looks between Richard and Charlotte and wondered what this was all about? But, as immediately afterwards Richard focussed all his attention on the tired wee girl, Elizabeth noticed nothing further between them. She thought it must be a figment of her imagination, although when Amy-Jane had grown bored with the story (which was much later than the adults) and went off to play music with Georgiana, when Elizabeth followed, Richard declined on the grounds of over exertion of his leg that morning and Charlotte just chose to stay as well. Maybe there was something there after all. Elizabeth hoped that Richard was not leading Charlotte on, as her dear friend was susceptible to romantic day-dreaming.

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><p>That night Elizabeth found she couldn't sleep so, rather than lying in bed hoping that sleep would someone how just happen, she got up, put on a shawl and quietly left her room, heading downstairs where the parlour should still be warmer for reading than her own room. The warmth and cosiness of Longbourn was another thing Elizabeth missed from her childhood. As she crept on tip toes down the hall she noticed light from under Charlotte's door.<p>

Knocking gently on the door, Elizabeth heard Charlotte say "Please come in." So she did. Charlotte was sitting at the rickety writing desk, but looked like she was reading rather than writing.

"Couldn't sleep. Do you mind me disturbing you?" Elizabeth whispered as she slipped into the room and shut the door behind her.

"No of course not. I couldn't sleep either. How are you feeling?" Charlotte whispered back as she folded up and then put down letter she was reading before turning to face.

"Not that good."

"Oh dear, should you be up? Did you over do it today?" Charlotte looked very worried.

"Not like that Charlotte, I am physically well."

"Then what is it? What happened?" Charlotte still looked worried.

"I don't know how to say this…" Elizabeth was stuck for how to continue. Should she even be bothering Charlotte with more of her problems?

Rather than saying anything, Charlotte just led her to the chair, which she had turned away from the bed, sat her down and then grabbed a brush and sat on the bed behind her. At first she unbound Elizabeth's bedtime plait, and then proceeded to brush it out.

"That's nice…" Elizabeth started to relax some. "Mmmm… nice… Charlotte?"

"Yes Lizzie."

"I was very foolish today." There, thought Elizabeth, I've said it.

There was a noise that could have been concern, maybe agreement, but nothing else from her friend.

"Yes, you always have said I sometimes misjudge a situation. Well, I actually did it today."

"Hmm?"

"I assumed Mr Darcy had told Richard… So I told him everything to ensure he knew the truth."

"Ah."

"So he knows. He knows it all. About the Viscount, that Amy-Jane is his niece, about everything that went wrong, about my sisters, especially Jane, everything."

"You told him everything?"

"I even told him what happened that night, how it happened. I didn't mean to, it just all came out. But I didn't have to."

"You didn't?"

"No. That was the really stupid part. I only told him because I thought Mr Darcy would have told him of my shame already. But he didn't, so I didn't need to."

Elizabeth had noticed Charlotte had stopped brushing her hair.

"How did Mr Darcy find out?"

"I told him too."

"So let me get this straight. You told Richard about that night, because you told Mr Darcy about that night, and you wanted to tell Richard to counter what you think Mr Darcy would have said, but he didn't say anything?"

"Um… I think so. It's all so confusing."

"Maybe you can start at the beginning. What happened first?"

Elizabeth started to explain, "I asked, no told Richard that his brother was Amy-Jane's father, and then I said…"

But Charlotte interrupted her. "No earlier than that. You said you only decided to tell Richard anything because you thought Mr Darcy had already told him, but would have got it all wrong. But telling Richard must have been after you had told Mr Darcy."

"Yes."

"So when did you tell Mr Darcy? He's been gone more than a week."

"Just after Christmas."

"But you'd avoided him until he left."

"He came here."

"Did he?"

"Yes, the day after Christmas. He came while you and Amy-Jane went over there, remember? We had a specific invitation, but I said I had a headache?"

"Vaguely. So he came here then, knowing you were alone?"

"I wasn't entirely alone, Mrs Carter was here."

"Good, good. So what did he want?"

Elizabeth was unprepared for having this discussion with Charlotte this soon after it happened, while she hadn't made sense of it herself. But what could she say? Charlotte was clearly sensing she was temporising, and she whispered insistently, "Lizzie, was this the thing I'd not believe? You can tell me. I will do my best to understand."

"I can't Charlotte, I just can't. Not just yet. Please."

Charlotte leaned forward and gave her a hug. "Of course you don't have to. Only when you are ready."

"Thank you Charlotte. You are a dear friend."

Charlotte said nothing in reply just gave her another hug.

"Anyway, whatever happened, things got heated and… in my anger I blurted out the truth. I'm still not sure why. Maybe I did it to… No, I don't know why… I don't. Why did I do it Charlotte?"

"Shh Lizzie, it doesn't matter. I don't think either of them will hold against you. Richard still is as friendly as ever. And I doubt it would make Mr Darcy have a disgust of you, I cannot see him holding his cousins actions against you."

"But he would Charlotte. I'm sure he is secretly pleased to know of my shame, my disgrace, it justifies his dislike of me!"

"Why are you so sure he dislikes you?"

"But he does!"

"Does he?"

"Why are you asking this? I already told Richard he does. Why doesn't anyone believe me!"

"Maybe, as outsiders, we see things differently to you. So at no time did he express anything that might show some regard for you?"

"Well, maybe, maybe yes. No! No. Even when he did say it, I could tell he had only contempt for me. So no, no, never."

"I'm sorry Lizzie, but you are not making sense. He said what?"

"When he proposed! There you've dragged it out of me, are you happy now?" Her statement stated rather loudly, but realising there were people sleeping, Elizabeth finished in the whisper as they had carried out the conversation to this point.

"So he proposed marriage the day after Christmas?" Charlotte whispered it as matter of fact.

"Yes!" Elizabeth replied. She did wonder why Charlotte did not seem shocked, but then again Charlotte was always a calm steadying influence on her. Someone you could rely on in a crisis, as she had done a number of times already.

"You can't leave it at that. What happened? Tell me. Please." Charlotte was clearly pleading and had a death like grip on her shoulders, Charlotte wasn't going to her go before she told it all.

Elizabeth tried one last attempt to avoid it. "Very simply, he proposed, and I refused."

Charlotte shook her while making a quiet strangled scream. "Argh! You cannot think to leave it like that. Details, I want details. Did he go down on one knee?"

"No. He just stood there for the most part, or paced. I remembering him pacing."

"Stupid man. Did he bring flowers? Quote Shakespeare? Recite poetry?" With each Elizabeth shook her head. Charlotte sounded more and more disheartened, "I don't know… Did he… was he romantic?"

"None of those things."

"Did he bring a present?"

"Don't know. If he did he never offered it."

"Oh." Poor Charlotte sounded so disappointed. But then she'd never had a proposal, and obviously imagined that each and every one would be a wonderfully happy, romantic occasion. Elizabeth, having received a fair number, realised they were more on the lines of a business transaction. Realising that Charlotte's hands had left her shoulders, Elizabeth took the opportunity to stand up and slip out towards the door.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Sorry Charlotte, but I feel tired enough to sleep now. Good night."

"This is not over. You will tell me."

"Yes, yes I will, but just not tonight."

"Tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

"Please. Don't leave me waiting like this. We can take Amy-Jane for a long walk. The weather looks like it will be pleasant enough."

"I'll think about it."

"You know I'll pester you until you do."

"Alright, alright. Tomorrow then. Good night Charlotte."

"Good night Lizzie."

With that Elizabeth quietly slipped out of Charlotte's room and returned to bed. As she lay there, drifting off to sleep, she realised that telling Charlotte everything might just be a good idea after all.

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><p>When Elizabeth woke, she was still in two minds about how much to tell Charlotte. As they all sat around the table in the kitchen eating breakfast, Elizabeth noticed that the weather had turned for the worst overnight, so the long walk was out. Elizabeth looked over at Charlotte once again, caught her eye and gestured towards the window, with a slight frown on her face. Once Charlotte noticed the weather, her face fell a little also.<p>

At first, Elizabeth felt some relief that they would not be going to talk after all. But, it would be unfair on Charlotte not to tell her the rest, now she had confessed to the proposal, and more-or-less promised to tell all, leaving her friend dangling was just cruel. Maybe if Mrs Carter could take Amy-Jane? No that would not work. If that happened then Mrs Carter would want to know why. Ah, she's not played with the boy next door for a while.

"Amy-Jane, would you like to play with Billy today?"

"Can't we go to 'Giana's place?"

"Not to day dear. I thought you'd like that, you've not seen him for a bit. He might have a new toy to show you. Maybe you could take your new doll to show him."

"Can I?"

"Yes, dear. Just be careful with her."

"Mummy, her name is Ana."

"Sorry. Please be careful with Ana. You go get her, I'll just clear up here."

"Yes mummy." And with that Amy-Jane slipped off the chair and wandered in the direction of the parlour.

At that point Mrs Carter piped up, "Do you want me to go with her and stay with Mrs Hughes while she is there? I can tell you two want to talk uninterrupted, you've been giving each other 'the look' for all of breakfast."

Elizabeth coloured slightly for being so transparent, but the offer was well meant, and actually very sensible. "Thank you Mrs Carter. Although I didn't think I was being that obvious."

"I know you too well young lady, it has been more than four years. Good years, mind. I'm certainly not complaining."

"And I'm very grateful that you took me in."

"Now you are putting me to the blush. Off with you two. I'll collect Amy-Jane and take her next door. Won't be back until luncheon. That might give you enough time."

Elizabeth laughed at her comment, understanding the sentiment in which it had been given. "Thank you Mrs Carter, what would I do without you?"

"A lot more than you think, you are very capable, that I don't doubt. Land on your feet anywhere, and you've got other good friends, like Miss Lucas here." Elizabeth noticed Charlotte was now blushing as well. "Off with you Mrs Carter."

"Goodbye to you both, I'll just collect Amy-Jane. Oh, one last thing, there are a few scones left over from yesterday in the bread bin."

"Thank you."

Mrs Carter left, and, after making sure her daughter said her farewells also, left out the back door, off to the neighbours, leaving Elizabeth and Charlotte alone in the house, finishing off the dishes. While Elizabeth prepared the tea, Charlotte prepared the scones.

Once she had finished, Elizabeth turned to Charlotte, "Well?"

Charlotte nodded and led the way to the parlour, which thankfully was already warm, with the fire having been lit for a while. After putting down what they were carrying, and both sitting down, they sat in an awkward silence while the tea finished brewing.

"Tea?"

"Yes Lizzie."

The only sound was the clatter of cups and saucers as Elizabeth made tea from them both.

"Here you go."

"Thank you."

"Scone?"

"No, thank you."

And then there was silence.

Which continued.

For quite some time.

While Charlotte drank her tea, Elizabeth fiddled with the position of the cup on its saucer. The tension was getting to her. Elizabeth did not know how Charlotte could be so calm. She tried to outlast her friend, but Charlotte seemed inhuman. So when she did eventually break, and started talking, she was a little peeved to see Charlotte's small smile of victory.

But talk she did. Elizabeth thought her description of the proposal must have been confusing for Charlotte, jumping around as she remembered different details. Charlotte asked many questions and, in answering them, it actually helped Elizabeth remember everything that had happened herself. This took almost all of the morning.

Now several cups of tea later, and with no more scones on the plate Elizabeth sat back, "So there you have it." She felt drained, but much happier having talked with someone as caring and concerned for her as Charlotte.

"Gosh." Charlotte sat back as well.

For a long while they just sat there, before Charlotte turned and gave Elizabeth's hand a squeeze.

"Lizzie, thanks for telling me."

"You're welcome."

"Want some more tea?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

"So, Lizzie, do you have any plans for the rest of the day? Maybe we can go to Georgiana's?"

"Not sure. I'd like to take Amy-Jane and go for the walk we had planned."

"Oh, are you sure you don't want to visit them? I know Amy-Jane is enjoying her story."

"I felt a bit uncomfortable yesterday around Richard, knowing that I'd told him all that had happened. Maybe later. Anyway, Richard was quite insistent on me finding out what happened to Mrs Younge, and I suppose I'd best find that out before visiting again, he's sure to question me on it."

"Mrs Younge? Wasn't she the one..."

"That helped Mr Wickham? Yes. She got arrested so had to go up before Lord Roskill. So she's probably been hung already. Maybe Mr Darcy arranged for her burial, she was in his employ at the time. As Richard insisted, I suppose I should do it sooner than later."

"Well, I'm keen." Charlotte stood up and walked to the window. "The rain looks like it has stopped, and the rest of the day should be better, maybe a little cold. How about we take Amy-Jane for a walk straight after lunch and go find out then?"

"Good. Let's go prepare for lunch."


	40. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 5

**Sorry this chapter has been rather delayed – for all the usual reasons – best summed up by 'life happens'.**

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**But while, with the best will in the world I want to post weekly, I can't see that happening with what else I have on at the moment, so I am far more likely to be posting fortnightly for sometime to come.**

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**For those that is interested, my forum to allow you to discuss any part of this story is operational again. It can be found at: www . fanfiction . net/myforums/Fost/2949543/  
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**Enough bumf from me, on with the narrative…**

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><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 5<strong>

Darcy noticed that the summons from his grandmother was finished in a very informal manner, similar to how she finished her letters to him when he was at school, ever so long ago when she had stayed with them at Pemberley after his mother died. While hurrying to get ready to be at his Grandmother's by one, Darcy felt like he was once again that naughty young man, that so disappointed his father and grandmother, when he was stood down from Eton for the rest of a term for fighting.

After ruining yet another cravat in his rush to arrive on time – his grandmother could be very unforgiving with the tardy and, if ever there was the need not to displease her more, her letter certainly made Darcy think this would be it – he accepted the inevitable and rang for Steele to tie the last remaining undamaged cravat in an elegantly done but very simple knot. Fidgeting while Steele helped him into his coat and brushed the last bits of lint from it, Darcy started to mentally prepare for the upcoming visit.

Darcy went over his most recent behaviour, hoping to find a clue that could indicate just exactly he'd done that would have caused her to issue an 'imperial' summons. It was not like he'd done anything more than attend the usual number of social events for a man of his stature. Admittedly it was the first time since before father passed away, as way back then he learned of how tedious it all was, had he been this active socially.

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Arriving at his Grandmother's residence, Darcy stood nervously before the steps of a much more modest property than Matlock House, bought by his late Grandfather for his wife and gifted to her in his will. He took one last look at his coat, clean - his hat, clean - his inexpressibles (heaven forbid visiting Grandmother in the new-fangled trousers), also clean - boots, a bit splattered but presentable. He did wish, not for the first time that he had insisted that Georgiana return with him to London, so the Darcy coach would be available here. Darcy was not particularly fastidious, but the state of most hackney cab's meant he much preferred to walk, if the weather and distance allowed it. Running his hand around his cravat, he noticed it had not faired that well in the walk over here, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Thinking there was no point lingering at the entrance like a reluctant supplicant, Darcy bounded up the few steps and knocked. His grandmother's rather peevish looking butler, who must have been close to his grandmother's age, that creaked and groaned as much as the door he opened, ushered him inside. The interior made a lie of the clean neoclassical lines of the Georgian terrace facade, done as it was in full blown Rococo decoration, most reminiscent of the famous French palaces, such as Versailles.

Now inside, Darcy surreptitiously checked his back using the very large mirrors, with their fluted, curlicue gilt frames lining each side of the hall as his, and the butler's, footwear clicked across the highly polished black and white marble floor. Darcy waited as the butler took some time to open the door to the parlour and announce him. Feeling inexplicably nervous, Darcy was eventually ushered into a room that combined both full Rococo and Gothic decoration, that was somehow in harmony.

The Dowager Countess, Darcy's grandmother sat off to one side, not as many supposed, the seat that was positioned like a throne, large, ornate and isolated opposite the door. She was a petite lady, not that age had helped in that matter, seemingly smaller now than when Darcy was younger. Her carriage and face still displayed a good deal of what must have been her exceptional beauty when in her prime, if a little disguised by the creases due to her advanced age. Frailty and slight deafness due to age aside, time had not diminished any of her eyesight or razor sharp intelligence. In some ways, limited now to mostly observing rather than participating, it did mean she was more formidable now than she had even been.

"Welcome Fitzwilliam." Darcy kissed the back of her upraised hand, before she used it to gesture to a chair beside her.

"Good afternoon Grandmother."

"But is it? Can I be certain of that given the reports I am receiving of one of my favourite grandsons."

"I didn't know you played favourites Grandmother."

"I said one of my favourite, Fitzwilliam. You know, you can quickly go off someone."

"Sorry grandmother."

"That is better. So I understand you have finally decided to wed. Good."

"What? I've decided nothing of the sort."

"That's strange. Your actions of the last weeks suggest wedding bells are immanent. Not to the person you wish to marry, mind, but to some lucky girl you danced with once too often."

"But I've made sure I've only ever danced one dance with anyone eligible on the night."

"Not entirely true Fitzwilliam."

"When?" Darcy wracked his brain to remember when he'd made that faux pas.

"I have a reliable source who was at the Whyte's Ball tell me that you danced twice with the younger of the Eller daughters. Although likely a mistake on your part as the mother dresses them in near identical colour and style. My source did state she doubted many would have noticed. But as the season starts, you must be aware that this low trickery becomes more common, particularly as the season progresses."

"Sorry Grandmother."

"No need to apologise to me. But you'd have been sorry if you'd end up leg-shackled with a silly, empty headed girl, with not even a pretty face, and with no bosom or shapely rear as compensation."

"Grandmother!"

"What it's true. A great deal of ether girl's shape is a tribute to their modiste and corset maker's skill."

"I wouldn't know!"

"Come now, you would, and you do. None of that prudery around me Fritzwilliam, I know men. Anyway, a word of advice, this stupid behaviour has to stop. You're embarrassing me. Do you know how many ladies have been visiting me each morning since you started this silly behaviour?"

"No."

"Far too many. I hardly had time to get rid of one party before Hatfield announces the next. Fair wearing him out, too. I doubt there are too many years left in him. Besides, I am getting no time to myself. All this, at my age!"

"Sorry Grandmother."

"You keep saying that, Fitzwilliam." Darcy was about to apologise for apologising, but stopped himself in time. Anyway his Grandmother had continued.

"… want to know who is she?"

"Who is who?"

"The lady you can't have."

"What?"

"Don't you deny it Fitzwilliam. Your behaviour has all the hallmarks of unrequited love."

"No! No. It's not that. Not at all."

"Say what you want young man, I know the symptoms."

"Symptoms? … What?"

"Oh, do keep up! Although inattentiveness is another symptom. You want someone unobtainable and are unwilling to risk it all. Trust me, no lady currently out would be unattainable for you. You are better connected than you think." His Grandmother patted his hand and sat back looking smug, having said that last statement in tone of an un-contradictable pronouncement. Darcy didn't, couldn't say anything. He was still trying to work out how she was still able to read him like a book. But the lady in question was unobtainable, but not in the way his Grandmother thought. Darcy sunk in on himself a little, not knowing what to say, even not sure if he was willing to lay it all out in front of her.

While he was considering this, the Dowager leant forward and grasped his hand again, concern in her eyes. "It is not that bad Fitzwilliam. I am likely to be able to resolve the situation in your favour, even if she is the daughter of a Duke."

How wrong his grandmother was in her thinking, duke's daughter indeed! Darcy let out an involuntary harsh bark of laughter, at the absurdity of it. She was right. He may well have been able to persuade a Duke to allow him to marry one of his precious offspring, but could not do so for Elizabeth.

She responded to this non-verbal answer "So. Who is she? Who's her father? I have noticed you've not denied it."

"No, I haven't. You are right, I love someone that does not return it. In fact her feelings are quite the opposite."

Now it was his grandmother that sounded surprised, "The opposite. What do you mean?"

"Her feelings are quite the opposite of mine. She hates me."

"Are you sure? I could understand indifference, but hatred. What did you do?"

"Do? That's the problem, Grandmother. I don't think I did anything much to provoke it, but I must admit I did … maybe… slightly insult her at the end of our first meeting."

"Fitzwilliam! You either insulted her or did not. How can you possibly 'maybe insult' someone?"

"I implied that she was not suitable for Georgiana to know."

"Ah. Fallen for a Cyprian, eh? Well, you're not the first. Let me meet her. I'll soon see if she is worth the problem that it will cause."

"She is not!"

"That so? Yet you say she is not suitable for your sister to know."

"She was unsuitable in that, while she is no one's mistress, she has a child, but was not wed."

"Ah ha! Now your cousin's letters make more sense. He seemed quite taken with Elizabeth Smith as well."

"Richard told you?"

"Not in so many words. But his letters or your sister's are far more informative than yours. Yours are as dry a read as a report in the Times. You'll need to improve on that if you ever decide you wish make the effort to woo her. "

"So you approve of me marrying her?

"From what I have read, both you, Georgiana, oh and Richard in particular, have written very highly of her, so yes, yes I would."

"Even if she is unsuitable for a gentleman's wife?"

"Fitzwilliam, I shall ask you a question and I want a totally honest offer, and not just because it is so, or saying it is obvious."

"Certainly Grandmother."

"Why do you consider her unsuitable?"

Darcy was rather startled by this question. In asking, his Grandmother almost implied that maybe Elizabeth was not unsuitable. She had already let him know she would approve of the match. Knowing that his Grandmother was keenly awaiting not just the usual, expected answer, Darcy took some time to compose a reply.

"She's had a child. So not only does she come into the marriage having lost her purity, she is unwilling to give her child up or make any concessions in hiding her past action."

"She sounds a singular lady, I must say."

His Grandmother's comment bought up memories of just how special he thought Elizabeth was. Realising he had sat there, probably with a silly smile on his face, he replied. "Yes. Yes she is."

"But totally unsuitable to be the wife of a gentleman, let alone that of a peer?"

"Yes?"

"You seem less sure of yourself now Fitzwilliam."

"I am. That you do not automatically condemn her raises concern that I have misconstrued the situation or missed something, something important."

His Grandmother was nodding, so Darcy assumed his assertion must have been right. "Grandmother, you obviously know what it is, can you explain?"

"Let me ask a few more questions then. Once again, tell me the answer even if it is obvious."

"Certainly Grandmother."

"Why is purity important?"

Darcy had never had to articulate the answer this question before. It was just was the way it was. If a gentlewoman was compromised, that meant her downfall. Everyone knew that. Exactly why, he was less certain, so he made what he thought was his best guess at it. "If she has lost her purity, how could a gentleman know his children are of his blood?"

"Does that matter?"

"What? Of course it does."

"I said that answer was not acceptable. Why is having the right blood so important? A child is a child after all."

Darcy was puzzled. It just was. Why did he need to explain it? But his Grandmother was expecting further explanation, so Darcy continued, "It stops bad blood. You know, breeding. Who your ancestors were."

"And that is important?"

"Yes? I… I assume it is. Isn't it? Otherwise your ancestors could be anyone, with who knows what insanity or criminality to inherit."

"So a daughter of a long established tenant yours would be acceptable then? One with no insanity or criminality in their past."

"No. Not acceptable at all." Darcy fell back on a similar argument he'd made to Charles just over a month ago, but seemed like a lifetime, as he continued, "The lower classes are not as intelligent and do not have the same morality or restraint of most of the gentry. Which is why society separates us into different classes, it is both natural and just."

"So it is not just the possibility for bad blood, but breeding. Like cattle?"

"While I would not state it in such blunt terms Grandmother, yes, yes I suppose it is a little like cattle."

"So knowing your ancestry is important, as you say, because of breeding?"

"Yes Grandmother."

"So who had the better breeding, your mother or your father?"

"My mother, of course." As soon as he said it, Darcy realised that he'd be asked to justify it. And so he was.

"But why? Your father's ancestry is as old as your mother,s. I understand Pemberley has been in Darcy family longer than the title of Matlock has been in ours."

"Yes, but mother was an Earl's daughter. Nobility trumps gentry, as gentry trumps commoner."

"I thought you'd say that. But commoners can and do rise to the gentry, and beyond."

"But it is a slow process, taking generations. Take my friend Charles Bingley. He still carries a slight taint of the shop, but if he buys an estate and marries into the gentry, as he has planned, his children are likely not, and his grandchildren definitely will not."

"So it is a slow process then? Could a man off the streets become nobility in their lifetime?"

"No. No, definitely not. Well not, and be accepted. Even if they did something extraordinary. The change is too great to be accomplished."

"What about a woman then? Commoner's do marry nobles. Rare but true."

"I can only say it must be even worse for her. Gentlemen may treat her with respect due to her title, but just as likely treat her as the Cyprian she most likely was. But the ladies definitely would not. I've seen how they act to a lady that is compromised. They could only be worse to someone they think had the presumption to think she was one of them."

"Interesting."

"Interesting Grandmother?"

"Yes. So, Fitzwilliam, you don't think it happens."

"No. No I don't."

"In that case I shall tell you a story of Vivienne, Vivienne Foucault. Can you sit and listen? … Yes?" Darcy nodded. "Good. Absolutely no comments, no questions until I've finished."

Darcy nodded again.

"Ah, where to start… I suppose it is best to start at the beginning.

"Vivienne is someone I've known all my life. Born the very same year as I, in fact. She was the only daughter of a humble baker in the poor part of Paris, arriving as a surprise, being many years younger than her older brothers. She was a precocious, lively young girl blessed with being exceptionally pretty as well. So it was not hard to understand why she was the apple of her father's eye. As a child, she was loved and pampered, but her father died while she was still young.

"That was when her eldest brother inherited her father's business. His wife was jealous of the attention Vivienne received, and she was too young to restrain her wit at Collette's, her sister-in-law, expense. But this jealousy did not become fully evident until her mother also died when she was 12. From then on Collette made Vivienne's life as difficult as she could, and poisoned the eldest brother's opinion of her as well. But her great beauty and wit, which so annoyed her sister-in-law attracted many, many customers, particularly those rich gentlemen on their way home in the early hours in the morning, more of which chose to buy their croissants and pastries from the Foucault's than anyone else.

"But as she got older her beauty grew rather than faded as young girl's looks often do. But it was as much of a curse as a blessing as her sister-in-law's jealousy grew with the ever increasing attention. When her beauty was noticed by the Duc de Duras, her sister-in-law noticed his interest and with her brother's, possibly reluctant agreement, arranged for Vivienne to become his mistress at the tender age of 16, for some considerable monetary consideration.

"But being the Duc's mistress was not that bad. He was not a demanding man, and generous with his gifts. With his tutelage, and her quick intelligence, she lost her common accent and manners and was accepted into the demi-monde, with a false history to cover her very common origins. But the Duc tired of her, as he did all of his mistresses, she was given her conge. Return to the impoverished area of her childhood was no longer acceptable, she did what she could to get another protector, soon attracting the interest of the Spanish Marquis du'Villena.

"Ah, Don Felipe was a fine figure of a man, even I remember him well over so many years. Olive in complexion as all Spaniards are, with smouldering dark eyes and sensuous lips, catching him was considered a fine coup. I remember he was not like many of the non-men at court, with large but empty codpieces, he was a large man just like your grandfa…"

"Grandmother!" Darcy could not believe what he was hearing. Did she just say what he thought she just had?

"What? Fitzwilliam, don't be a prude. And he knew how to please a woman, not like the Duc de Duras. Bah, give me the raw passion of a Spaniard over the effete refinement of the French male any time. But it's you English that are still the best, as you all can be trained to do it right. I wonder what you've been told already. Maybe I should tell you more about it…"

Darcy didn't like the direction this conversation had headed, so thought best to get her back to the story of Vivienne. "So what happened with Vivienne?"

"Ah, Vivienne. Yes, her. So Vivienne spent some time with her Spaniard. Even managed to gather a few secrets to help her country against the Spanish. Nearly got caught several times, but that is all ancient history now. Still, she knew it would not last forever, abd this time, while still with the du'Villena she courted his replacement. A clever girl, she saw how, regardless of their current beauty, a mistress's looks always faded. Only those that could acquire a husband was safe from the eventual loss of her only tradable commodity and inevitable destitution.

"So rather than change to one of the wealthiest or most powerful of her courtiers, which she attracted as bees to honey, she convinced the elderly Comte de Rosset to offer for her. So at 19, she became respectable, as his forth Countess and moved to Marseilles. Poor man, he'd buried his first three wives young. Vivienne was happy to be able to give him comfort in his final years. But he was no longer able to provide for her physically, so she took lovers. She was discrete, so she was sure he never knew, even if he probably suspected. One of these was an English nobleman, the third son of an Earl, in France on his Grand Tour. Unlike the others, she knew he was the one, and shared with him the truth of her past, something she had managed to hide from all but the Duc du Duras up 'til then.

"Maybe she did it as she thought she was getting too attached, and would only have her heart broken when he left, as they all had in the past. But instead of rejecting her, he embraced her origins, and loved her more for her honesty. Before long he was her only lover as the Comte slowly lost all his facilities and then finally his grip on life itself. When he first proposed marriage, the Comte was still alive, if not long for the world, and he was still only the third son. But while he stayed in France, delaying his return against the wishes of his father, he lost first one brother suddenly to cholera and the other a bit later in a duel. Each time he came closer to the title, she released him from his promise, and each time he repeated it. By the time Comte finally died, having lingered long past what was expected, the Englishman was the heir to an Earldom, yet still promised to marry her as soon as her mourning period was over.

"Before that happened, he had to return to England, his father had fallen while riding and the horse had rolled over on him. Initially it was just the loss of a leg, but it turned to something worse, and, as the heir, he had no choice but to return hime. When he left Vivienne was heartbroken and finally grieved for real, as once home she knew he would succumb to family pressure and marry a lady far more suitable to the heir to an earldom, particularly one that was soon to assume the title. Even his frequent letters could not reassure her, that in the end, she would not be abandoned to prudence.

"But it was to her complete surprise that the day her mourning period ended he was there in Marseilles to propose again. He explained the surprise to having travelled faster across the channel and through France than the letter he had sent to inform her of the fact that his father was no longer at death's door and they could be married as soon as he could get her to England.

"Well that was a lie and it wasn't. Only after she arrived in London, and was married that very night did he tell her that his father was no longer at death's door because he had already gone through it. He had not told her he was now the Earl in case she refused to marry him due to some misguided notion of what was best for his future on her part.

"So that is the story of how Vivienne Foucault, the humble daughter of a poor Parisian baker became an English Countess. The Earl never used her origins as a weapon against her and she never felt made to feel inferior because of her past."

"But… But…" Darcy still was trying to sort this out. His grandmother was French, that was without doubt, and it was obvious that she knew very intimate details of this lady's life. While not sure, Darcy thought his Grandmother's was named Vivienne, not that he'd ever heard her referred to by her given name, due to her age and status. But that would mean…

"Yes Fitzwilliam. Before you ask, I was born as Vivienne Foucault. That was my story."

"Does your son…?" Darcy was incapable of saying more, the shock was such that he just sat there with his mouth open after those few words.

"Yes the Earl knows, and certainly your Aunt, the Countess, knows as well. I suspect my daughter, your Aunt de Bough, knows or suspects something of this without having received any actual confirmation. As I've got older I've not bothered to hide as I did when your Grandfather was alive. He would not have cared, but I never wanted him to suffer the loss of face that would occur if it was known. Since he left me, I care little for what my son, your uncle the Earl, thinks."

"So if a mistress, raised up from the very gutters of Paris, unashamedly impure from having many lovers, is suitable as a countess, and your own blood relative, explain to me why this Elizabeth Smith is unsuitable for a gentleman's wife. Use that logic you are so proud of, to explain why your Grandfather made a poor decision."

And with that his Grandmother sat back, looking satisfied, but tired, and watched as he tried to sort out what this all meant for his life, his position in society, his worth as a man. Darcy was glad his Grandmother did not speak or question him any further for some time. There was so much to take in, so much to think about. Did this change everything? Or, was it as Grandmother appeared to suggest, change nothing at all? Darcy had a huge number of questions but didn't know what to ask first, or even whether he should or could ask some of the questions he wanted answers to. While trying to think of the way to articulate any one of these, Darcy realised his Grandmother was speaking to him.

"… have to tell you this is not to be told to anyone else, even family. You are the only grandchild I've told…." Thinking she'd paused, Darcy went to ask the first of many questions, but his Grandmother had started to rise from her chair. Rising immediately out of politeness, but also to help her up, he clasped her hands as she stood.

Once up the Dowager gave him one last squeeze of her hands before letting go, and then gestured dismissal while saying, "I know you will have questions, but off you go. Go to think things through, many of the questions you will want to ask now you'll not need to once you've had time."

Darcy gritted his teeth and nearly growled in frustration from being so dismissed, but he could not go against her wishes. His Grandmother took hold of his arm, and while appearing to use him for support was actually guiding him towards the door.

"Do not fret, my dear grandson, you can return tomorrow morning, as it is my morning to visit, but I am happy to forgo that activity to answer some sensible questions."

"Thank you Grandmother. Would mid-morning be too early?"

"Not at all. You need a lot less sleep when you get to my age. But it does mean you may have to curtail the worst of your recent excesses to do so."

"That will not be a problem, Grandmother. In fact, I feel it best not to go anywhere tonight. As you yourself have stated, I have a lot to think of."

Darcy bent down to kiss his Grandmother goodbye, and did so with genuine affection.

"Goodbye Grandmother."

"Farewell Fitzwilliam."

* * *

><p>So it was a very distracted Darcy that walked back from his Grandmother's house. At least this gave him plenty of time to think. She was right, as always, the initial flurry of questions he had were either just to satisfy his own prurient interests, which was irrelevant to the situation in hand, or something he really should think on and answer himself. But he was sure that there would later be questions, particularly how his Grandfather acted, as that would give him some examples of how to act if he could correct Elizabeth's prejudice, her ill-founded hatred for him, based as it was, on lies and misinformation.<p>

Darcy then realised, only as he climbed his own steps, that he'd still not told his Grandmother that he had already proposed marriage and been rejected. Having this out in the open, and getting his Grandmother's assistance with what to do to about it, was far more important than whatever else he wanted answers to. It must be the first thing he did once he returned tomorrow. He had some thoughts on not quite telling everything, as parts of it did not reflect that well on him either, but the foolishness of that idea was readily apparent, and he knew he'd have to tell Grandmother the full story, warts and all. Given her insight to his behaviour from little information, Darcy was certain his Grandmother could bring that insight to bear with this as well.

There was a lot to think on. Darcy spent the rest of the day and evening in the library, alternatively pacing, staring at the flames or looking at nothing at all.

At the forefront of his thoughts was this most recent news that had, once again, shattered his world, in the way two other events recently had done. All three were almost as dramatic as the death of either of his parents had been, so many years ago. Firstly, there was the realisation that he desired, wanted, no actually, loved Elizabeth, and was prepared to act against everything he thought was right, or would advise others to do, in pursuit of these feelings. Then secondly, to discover she did not feel any attraction for him in reply, but in fact hated him enough to turn him down such an advantageous match, yet it was all based on lies and misinformation. And now, finally, to find that his supposed superiority, with it an unshaken belief in his elevated breeding, was nothing of the sort.

It was only as the candles guttered out that Darcy, realising that he had an early start tomorrow, put down his still unfinished glass of brandy he had poured himself just after dinner, and headed upstairs.


	41. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 6

**Here is the next chapter, a day earlier than I had expected. Have part of another chapter already written as I had written more, but realised that this chapter was getting awfully long. Even still I expect the next chapter will be 2 weeks away. **

**Anyway, please enjoy… **

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 6<strong>

It was early the same afternoon that Elizabeth, Amy-Jane and Charlotte started their journey of discovery. As they walked away from Mrs Carter's house, Elizabeth was happy that she and Charlotte ended up a little behind Amy-Jane who was jumping over the puddles that were present in all the gaps and dips in the cobbled street. They walked north, up and away from the shoreline and turned the first corner when Charlotte has stopped and asked. "Why are we embarking on this quest again?"

"Richard insisted that I find out what happened to her. It was after I told him about what happened…" Elizabeth looked around, while there wasn't anyone about, the gossips in this place had very acute hearing. "You know about London… well, after I told him, we then argued over his cousin disliking me. He tried to convince me his cousin didn't look at me with dislike, and could only to see my faults, but I was not swayed. I know he sees all my supposed faults and dislikes me so…"

Elizabeth noticed Charlotte had stopped walking, and was stood there smirking.

"Stop it Charlotte, you're just like Richard. Always grinning at my expense."

"Sorry Lizzie. There. I'm not grinning too badly now, am I? No. But that still doesn't explain about Mrs Younge."

"No. Oh, that was later. After were agreed to disagree, Richard said nothing for a while, then asked… out of the blue really… did I know what happened to Mrs Younge?"

"And did you? Did he explain anything more?"

"Not really, not once he knew I didn't know. He didn't tell me anything, just asked what I thought had happened. So I told him that she would have been hung, Lord Roskill has a nasty reputation. He then told me his cousin went to the trial to see justice done. Apparently the two of them argued over the sentence, but his cousin won, so will have made sure she got what he thought she deserved, not what was right. Then he said I was just like him! Can you believe it?" Elizabeth couldn't tell if Charlotte agreed with her or not, she didn't say anything.

"Well, even if both of you do, I know I'm nothing like that odious gentleman. But in the end he said that what happened to Mrs Younge showed the type of man his cousin is, and I had to agree with him on that. Richard thought making me admit that was a great coup, as if knowing she was hung as he would have wanted changed anything. I know the type, the world is full of gentlemen like him, all pride and arrogance, not interested in anything but their own narrow interest or that of their immediate family. No consideration of those that they think are beneath…"

"So where are we off to first Lizzie?" interrupted Charlotte

Elizabeth remembered that Charlotte did not know Mr Darcy the way she did, and had a far more favourable opinion of him due to some minor act of kindness on his part, as she interrupted her own, let's face it, rant about him before she'd got too far into letting out how she really felt about the arrogant, conceited, so and so. Still, she knew Charlotte did not like confrontations, and was always conciliatory by nature, so let the matter drop. Instead, answered the question, "I thought that we could go out to the pauper's graveyard first, as it is closer than the graveyard at St George's church."

"Oh. But remember you said that Mr Darcy would have paid for her funeral, wouldn't that mean she'd be at the church?"

"Yes, but what if he didn't? Then we'd have to come all the way back. Anyway, Mr Hawker's yard is on the way, maybe he knows, which will save us all the trouble."

"Oh." Charlotte sounded a little crestfallen at this news, as she continued nervously, "You'll just ask him about Mrs Younge, won't you Lizzie. We won't stay long?"

"Oh Charlotte! He's nothing to be fearful of. He can be quite sweet."

"He might be sweet, but there is so very much of him!"

"He can't help that he's large, Charlotte. But, fine, we won't stay long."

Charlotte replied a little sheepishly, "Thank you Lizzie."

As they walked a bit further, mostly in silence, the only sounds were the splash! of Amy-Jane's half boots when she didn't quite clear the puddle and the occasional admonishment from her mother when she went to attempt the larger ones.

As they turned the corner Elizabeth lunged forward to grab Amy-Jane, just as her daughter recognised Mr Hawker's yard and was about to rush off towards it. "No you don't young lady. It is not a good place to go rushing into, it could be dangerous." Crouching down beside her daughter Elizabeth said in a very mummy voice, "Amy-Jane you need to be good and stay with us. Maybe Aunty Charlotte could hold your hand if you ask her nicely."

"Please Aunty Charlotte."

"Of course dear. You stay with me. Your mummy has to ask the nice Mr Hawker a few questions and then we'll have to go."

"Goody. I like Mr "Awker."

With Amy-Jane taken care of, as a farrier's was not a safe place for a young child, Elizabeth strode off ahead as she watched her daughter pull a much more reluctant Charlotte after her. As she was walking through the gates, Elizabeth thought maybe she should do something about her friend's irrationality around large men. Maybe this unavoidable exposure to people like Mr Hawker will help.

"Elizabeth Smith! As I live and breathe!"

"Good afternoon Mr Hawker."

"Good afternoon to you also. Yes, greetings to you, Miss Amy-Jane, oh and Miss Lucas too."

Elizabeth heard a mumbled greeting from both her friend and her daughter. It appeared that Charlotte's bashfulness was rubbing off on her daughter. After first turning and frowning at her not normally so shy child, who was right now partly hidden behind Charlotte's skirts, Elizabeth turned back quickly and smiled broadly at Mr Hawker to prevent him noticing their less than polite reply.

"So what brings you to my humble establishment? Have you three new horses that want shod? Or maybe it is a beautiful white unicorn for Amy-Jane? If it is I have new shipment of gold and ruby horse shoes for her. But don't tell anyone, Amy-Jane, or some else will snaffle them up in a jiffy." This last bit was said in rather silly sing-song voice which caused Amy-Jane to giggle and lose her shyness.

"Actually, we are here to see if you know what happened to Mrs Younge."

"Mrs Younge? Who's she?"

"She was the female accomplice of Mr Wickham." Elizabeth noticed that Mr Hawker was still looking blank, so added. "The man that was shot in the Black Bear Inn."

"Aren't you nursing him?"

"No, that is Colonel Fitzwilliam. Mr Wickham is the man who died. You know the one that robbed the Miss Darcy and then threaten the serving maid."

"Oh, him. I heard he had an accomplice that was going up before the beak, but no I don't know what happened to her. I wouldn't bother looking in the pauper's grave, Elizabeth. Mr Darcy is certain to have done the Christian thing and paid for her funeral. Save your shoe leather and go see Sexton Neville straight away."

"You're certain Mr Darcy would have done so?"

"Oh yes. I can always tell a real gentleman by the way he treats his horses. Did you see his chestnut stallion? Oh what a beautiful animal. Such conformation, such poise, all contained raw power, beautiful, really beautiful." Elizabeth could see a real wistful look come over Mr Hawker as he went into rapture about… a horse?… as he continued, "Called it something foreign, Sireo or Sissery…"

It could only be one name, thought Elizabeth, so she took an educated guess and said. "Cicero?"

"Yeah, that it. So you've seen it."

"Not as such."

"Oh. You missed out on a treat. Maybe you can ask Mr Darcy to show him to you when he returns. Anyway, as I was saying, came in just before Christmas. Sissery's shoes were not that bad, but he was concerned that one was loose and might shift. It was obvious he took great care of this horse. Even lifted the leg to show me what he was concerned about, just like a groom would do."

"Now usually these big stallions are real handful, but Mr Darcy stood at his head, stroked his neck and the horse was as placid as a lamb. Only ever seen that happen with a maybe a few well trained geldings before. Once it is was done he mounted up, as nimble as you please, and I thought, 'here you go, he's off. I'll have to send him the bill, and hope it gets paid' although I had heard that Mr Darcy paid all his bills on time. Even with his horse acting lively underneath him, he paid there and then. A true gentleman. As I said before, I can tell a real gentleman, and he's one of them."

Elizabeth's disbelief of this narrative must have shown on her face as Mr Hawker then added, rather animatedly, "What, you don't believe me?"

"No Mr Hawker, not at all… it's just…. Mr Darcy a real gentleman?"

"Oh, has he been bothering you then? Sometimes you just can't tell. Take that Mr Wickham for instance. Everyone thought he was a good sort, but see how wrong they all were. Anyway, I'd rather not lose a good paying customer, but if he's done anything to you, anything at all… I'll let him know you are not without friends able to defend your honour." As this was accompanied by Mr Hawker flexing his very brawny arms and standing thrusting out his chest, Elizabeth has sudden visions what Mr Hawker had done to another of her too persistent 'admirers'. Oh, no, not Mr Darcy. Somehow the thought of Mr Darcy being hurt on her account, even just of him actually being hurt for any reason, horrified her.

She quickly acted to calm Mr Hawker down, "No! It's not like that! Not at all! He's done nothing to bother me. Please do not trouble yourself. It is entirely unnecessary."

"Are you sure? He hasn't said anything either?"

"No. No! Everything is good between us. I am good friends with his sister as you must recall." Elizabeth thought she heard giggling behind her, but could not see why Amy-Jane would be laughing, so ignored it.

"Oh yes, so you've said. Still, you know you only have to ask."

"Yes, I know. And I am most grateful. Thank you for your time Mr Hawker, but we must be off, as we still have lots to do today."

"If you have to go."

"Yes we do, sorry." As Elizabeth turned to Amy-Jane, she noticed it was Charlotte that was shaking with suppressed laughter, trying to muffle her giggles. Giving her a sharp look she focussed back to her daughter. "Say goodbye to Mr Hawker Amy-Jane."

"Goodbye Mr 'Awker."

"Goodbye Amy-Jane."

Charlotte appeared able to compose herself enough to also make her farewells and, on that note, they left.

Once they had got out of earshot of Mr Hawker's, and aware that Amy-Jane was preoccupied with some bug that was floating in a nearby puddle, Elizabeth stopped and turned to Charlotte and asked in an accusing voice, "What was that all about?"

"What?"

"Don't act all innocent with me. The giggling behind my back."

"Oh that… " and in a fair imitation of Elizabeth's own voice she replied "It's just, 'no he's done nothing to bother me' and … 'everything is good between us'… Does either of these ring a bell? No?"

"What?"

"Should I remind you of some of the things that you said just this morning about the same gentleman that 'has done nothing to bother me'…? If that is what you say when they don't bother you, I'd hate to think what you'd say if someone actually does."

"That's different. I just didn't want Mr Hawker to hurt Mr Darcy. I know I wrote to you about what happened to Mr Morine. That was Mr Hawker."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. The less said the easier mended. Right. Off to the pauper's graveyard. Come on Amy-Jane. No dithering."

"The pauper's graveyard? But didn't Mr Hawker say…?"

"Yes, but he also said Mr Darcy was a real gentleman. A real gentleman would not have let Mrs Younge got hung in the first place. He would have done something about it."

"Oh. I see your point."

"Come on Charlotte, it's not far. Amy-Jane. Leave the bug, come."

* * *

><p>Once they arrived at the pauper graveyard, they spent some time searching for Mrs Younge's grave, mostly by herself, Elizabeth noted. Charlotte had given up after only a few minutes, and spent the time amusing Amy-Jane instead. After about ten minutes Elizabeth was ready to concede defeat. Several times now, Elizabeth had checked the markers of all the most recent ones, the ones with still proud piles of dirt, even those too short to be anything but children - her heart went out to the Pipers, as three of their children lay here. Thankfully this winter and the last had been wet rather than cold, so the numbers of children were quite a bit lower than she could see for earlier years.<p>

In that time Elizabeth had not found Mrs Younge's name, or that of any female who's name she did not recognise as a Ramsgate local, having been buried recently. There were any number of men who were unknown to her. However, this was expected, as many dying soldiers clung to life just long enough to survive the trip over from Portugal to die within days, sometimes even hours, of making landfall, so they would be buried on English soil rather than in a foreign land or at sea. As a result Elizabeth had widened her search to include any with 1811 or 1810 dates on the markers without finding any indication of her there either.

With obvious frustration, she went back to the most recent graves, certain that Mrs Younge should be here, otherwise Mr Hawker assumption of Mr Darcy's conduct may have been correct, and she did not want to concede the point.

"Lizzie. Give up! Mrs Younge is not here." Charlotte said rather peevishly, Elizabeth noticed.

"But she should be here."

"Yet she isn't. You'll have to concede your friend Mr Hawker was likely right. Let's go to St Georges."

"I was just thinking…"

"What Lizzie?"

"Rather than going all the way to St George's, maybe we should go see Mr Sullivan, who's closer, instead."

"Who's he."

"He's the Ramsgate undertaker and makes all the coffins. So even if she's buried elsewhere, you never know if a relative could have come to collect her body, he'd know, wouldn't he."

"Good idea. He'd certainly know who he'd delivered it to, if he didn't transport her to her final resting place himself. So are you done there Lizzie?"

"Yes. Let's be off."

[line]

"Do you have a moment Mr Sullivan?"

"For you, of course I do, ma'am."

"Mr Sullivan, have you met my good friend Miss Lucas?"

"No, no I haven't. Good afternoon Miss Lucas, welcome to Ramsgate."

"Thank you, good afternoon Mr Sullivan."

"So what brings you fine ladies into my establishment this rather dreary afternoon?"

"I have a couple of questions to ask you, if you don't mind." Said Elizabeth.

"Not at all. What is it?"

Elizabeth stepped forward and asked, "Mr Sullivan, did you remember the events a few months ago at the Black Bear?"

"Ah yes, that terrible business with a Colonel being shot. I made the coffin for the thief that died."

"Just him? Not a woman too?"

"What woman? No woman that I know of. Just the man… What was his name..?"

"Mr Wickham?"

"That's the one. Mr Darcy bought a beautiful coffin in oak, complete with brass fittings, at a very reasonable price, mind but then he needed it lead lined, in a hurry, of course. That cost Mr Darcy a pretty penny I can tell you."

"Lead lined?"

"Yes, he said it was going to take nearly a week to get him home for burial. He asked me who I'd recommend to get it to Derbyshire. I told him to use Mr Brownlee if he definitely wanted it to get it there, and quickly, even if he might be the more expensive."

"So did he pay for all of this? And use Mr Brownlee?"

"Yes, I laid Mr Wickham out and took him round there myself."

"Oh." This information, while still not giving any clue to Mrs Younge's fate, was very puzzling. Elizabeth could possibly see Mr Darcy paying for the funeral of Mrs Younge as she was an employee, if only because it would look bad for him if he did not, but no one would have known of the connection between him and Mr Wickham, so why would he have bothered to have done anything at all? And when he did, Mr Darcy did not just bury him in a cheap pine box here in Ramsgate, but went to the considerable expense, even for a wealthy man, of a lead lined coffin, transported all the way back to Derbyshire. She could not fathom it. This was undermining her previously unshakeable belief that she could always tell what a gentleman like him would do in these sorts of situations.

This confusion appeared to be written across her face, as Mr Sullivan must have though she didn't believe him, insistently adding, "That's the gospel truth, I tell you. You go ask Mr Brownlee, he'll confirm it. Just you ask him."

"Sorry Mr Sullivan, I never meant to imply it wasn't. It is just I know that Mr Darcy was there when Mr Wickham shot Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr Darcy's cousin, before he himself died. Just can't understand why he'd bother to go to all this trouble for someone that wronged him and his family."

"That's the gentry for you dear, can afford to be generous and charitable. And Mr Darcy is a generous soul. I even offered him my cheaper ones, even a pine one that was quite nice, stained to look like it was more expensive, they are quite popular, and very reasonably priced, if you want to have a look…? No…? Are you sure…? Oh well, maybe later… Now where was I… Oh, yes, Mr Darcy... Yes, refused all the cheap options, insisted on a good solid oak coffin. Then paid extra to line it with lead. Was adamant his childhood friend would not be buried in a cheap coffin. A very admirable sentiment, it would be nice if more people…"

It was testament to the confusion that she was experiencing that Mr Sullivan was a good way into his next sentence before Elizabeth registered what he just said and so interrupted him.

"Friend? He called Mr Wickham his childhood friend?"

"That's what he said. I remember it particularly since almost no one I know would so acknowledge a criminal, particularly one that committed such a heinous act."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true as that I stand here before you. His actions in going to all that trouble would confirm it."

Elizabeth felt like her head was reeling, she needed to sit down. Looking around she saw a spare chair next to where Charlotte was sitting, having been amusing Amy-Jane quietly while she and Mr Sullivan had been talking. Elizabeth quickly moved to sit next to them. She was off balance, her equilibrium disturbed. She felt lost, all at sea. It was such that Elizabeth didn't care that she'd been rude in end their conversation so abruptly. Charlotte must have noticed as she stepped in to cover this lapse in manners.

"Mr Sullivan, we were really here to find out about Mrs Younge. You haven't had anything to do with her burial have you?"

"No, don't recognise the name. Who was she again?"

"Actually that might not have been her true name, so she could well have been buried under another. She was Mr Wickham's accomplice. She was found in the Black Bear as well."

"Ah. The naked lady in the bed. Oh pardon me miss."

"No matter. She went up before the Ramsgate Magistrate maybe two months after Mr Wickham died. Would have been charged with theft of a considerable amount of jewellery. It was worth far too much for a jury to be able turn it to only a fine, even if they had the inclination."

"Oh. That's odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes, buried all of Lord Roskill's convictions only just before Christmas, if you can imagine it. He doesn't like them hanging around, if you excuse the pun, long after conviction, but a week before Christmas? I say! Lord Roskill hasn't a heart. But there were no women among them."

"No women, are you sure?"

"Certainly. As you imagine, I have to attend. If only to remove the bodies, even if the family collect them off me later. No woman this time, nor, if I remember the time before that. Any earlier was before Mr Wickham died."

"Thank you for your time, and patience answering our questions. We best be off."

"It was very nice meeting you Miss Lucas. I hope you find what you are looking for."

"I hope so too. Thanks once again Mr Sullivan. Elizabeth, come now, we've taken enough of Mr Sullivan's time."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was no longer surprised when Mr Brownlee confirmed Mr Sullivan's story in every detail, even adding a little of his own. Prior to departure, Mr Darcy arrived with a letter of that he insisted be handed personally to the Rector and no one else. He even paid quite a bit extra to ensure Mr Brownlee accompanied the shipment personally rather than leave it any of his employees. Mr Darcy stressed that the letter was most important as it was his personal instructions regarding Mr Wickham's funeral, and he was to be told, by express if necessary, if it was ever lost.<p>

When they asked exactly where the body was sent, Mr Brownlee could only remember it was a town in Derbyshire, so they asked if he could check his records, which he agreed to only after a little coy persuasion. He came back a few minutes later to say it was to St Mary's Church in a small town called Lambton, a place very close to Mr Darcy's own estate of Pemberley.

After they walked away, Elizabeth asked Charlotte if she wouldn't mind continuing on to St George's after all, or would she prefer to take Amy-Jane back to Mrs Carter's if she did not want to continue wandering all over Ramsgate on what seemed to have turned into a wild goose chase. Charlotte replied that this adventure was actually rather exciting, and she wanted to know what happened to Mrs Younge almost as much as she imagined Elizabeth did. Charlotte also pointed out there was no point asking Richard, who clearly knew, he'd just tell them to keep looking.

* * *

><p>To Elizabeth's relief it was Sexton Neville rather than Rector Granville that greeted them effusively at the door to St Georges'. Elizabeth said that she was looking for a Mrs Younge, or a woman of another name, as it was not certain that was her real name, that would have been buried in the St Georges' graveyard late last year. She explained the woman had appeared before Lord Roskill on theft charges having been arrested in possession of a good deal of jewellery. Elizabeth was pleased to see the look of disgust cross the Sexton's face, another local unhappy with Lord Roskill's reputation as a hanging judge. Although not all locals saw things the way Elizabeth and the Sexton did. Rector Granville for one.<p>

But no, the Sexton was adamant that no woman had been buried at St Georges' that could possibly be Mrs Younge, or whatever name she had used, as he knew personally all woman buried in the last few months. In fact he knew all those who were buried here, going back any number of years.

Elizabeth almost felt like crying with frustration. Richard obviously thought Mrs Younge's fate would be easy to find and yet they'd exhausted every possibility. Sexton Neville must have overheard her and Charlotte discussing (almost arguing) over what to do next, as he suggested that maybe they should go see his brother, who was a Clerk of the local Magistrate's Court. There was always the possibility that the case itself could have been moved to London, for example, given that it was likely Mr Darcy's nearest permanent residence, and he had the right given he was the aggrieved party.

Feeling much happier, as maybe this was what Richard had wanted them to discover, Elizabeth thanked Sexton Neville most sincerely before leaving with a sense of purpose again.

* * *

><p>Mr Neville was as pleased to see them as his brother had been. After the usual pleasantries, and the obligatory cup of tea, Elizabeth got to the point.<p>

"Mr Neville, we are here," Elizabeth looked over to Charlotte to reinforce the point, "to find out what happened to Mrs Younge."

"Ah, that case, Lord Roskill presided over it late last year. I remember rather well. Most unusual, it was. All tied up with that Mr Wickham and the events at the Black Bear. Am I right?"

"That's right, Mr Wickham was the one that died, Mrs Younge was his accomplice. She was arrested by the militia at the same time. So do you know what happened with her since then?"

"Yes, yes I suppose do …"

"You do!" Elizabeth grinned wildly at Charlotte. All their walking and sore feet could come to an end.

"Yes. Let me think…" And then he paused! Elizabeth wanted to grab and shake him. She did wonder if he was doing this deliberately, but that was just being paranoid, wasn't it?

"Well, Mr Neville?" Elizabeth said with some impatience, after some time.

"Sorry, trying to remember the departure dates?"

"Departure dates? Where is her coffin being shipped?"

"Coffin? What coffin?"

"Mrs Younge's coffin."

"Why would she need a coffin, she wasn't hung. No, no, she was transported to Australia only a few weeks ago. I just couldn't remember which ship she was on."

"Transported to Australia? Are you sure?" This didn't make sense. Elizabeth was prepared to hear all sorts of locations for her body, but could not understand how she'd survived Lord Roskill propensity for permanent justice as the magistrate at her trial.

"Yes, I remember it like it was yesterday. The session started out the same as any other, Lord Roskill in his usual mood until he saw the plaintiff… what was his name…?"

"Mr Darcy."

"That's the one. Yes. I noticed as soon as Mr Darcy turned up Lord Roskill looked like he had bitten a lemon and positively glared at Mr Darcy as he took his place. From then on the Magistrate took his ire out on the defendants before Mrs Younge. Poor Peter Joyce, he normally just gets a telling off, that time he was put away for three months. Came as a complete surprise to everyone, I can tell you. Funny thing, I noticed that Mr Darcy just sat there looking slightly bored, ignoring an number of pointed comments during Lord Roskill's summing up of each new case that could have only been directed specifically at Mr Darcy."

"Why did Mr Darcy upset him. I 'd have thought they'd agree on just about everything."

"Well that's where it got interesting. I remember I kept glancing over to where Mr Darcy sat as no one has discomposed Lord Roskill to that extent before, well, that I can remember. Mr Darcy just sat there ignoring everything until Mrs Younge was bought to the dock. Then, he paid particular interest in everything that was said. At times when Lord Roskill looked like he was going to start to embellish the case against her, Mr Darcy just looked very pointedly at him, and Lord Roskill stopped what he had been saying and stuck only to the facts. But that was not the best part, that bit came at the end."

"What happened then?" Charlotte interjected. Elizabeth had forgotten her friend was in the room, absorbed as she was with Mr Neville's narrative. There was a moment's panic when she couldn't see Amy-Jane, but that left as quickly as it arrived when she saw her daughter was resting on the chair next to Charlotte, almost totally covered with their coats.

"…was when the jury returned a guilty verdict. Well it was the only one possible, the evidence of the Militia officer was irrefutable, she was caught red-handed and a more that little red-faced as well. At that the colour drained from her face, so she looked like a ghost already. She must have heard of Lord Roskill's reputation while awaiting trial. I noticed that Lord Roskill hesitated, normally he'd just pass sentence straight away. He was looking directly at Mr Darcy, like he was pleading, but Mr Darcy just looked calmly back at him, not staring, but resolute and unwavering. It was like there was a battle of wills between them. I kept looking back and forth between them, to try to work out what was happening. This delay caused the whole court to pause as well. So it was in a silent courtroom that Lord Roskill, with a look of disgust and anger, banged his gavel so hard I thought it would break, and passed a sentence of transportation. At hearing that sentence, you could have heard a pin drop. No one, absolutely no one, well other than Mr Darcy who looked satisfied, believed what they had just heard. It was her sobs of relief that broke the silence, and then there was pandemonium. I actually had to ask Lord Roskill to repeat his sentence so I could be sure to have recorded it correctly as I couldn't believe it myself. Lord Roskill near bit my head off, but did repeat the sentence so I could record it properly. What I wouldn't give to know how Mr Darcy did it, however he did it, he saved that lady's life."

"Couldn't he have the charges dropped?" Asked Charlotte.

"Highly unlikely, as I said she was caught in possession of the stolen goods by the militia, it would have been out of his hands. She was already locked up. Lord Roskill would have made sure she stood trial whatever Mr Darcy wanted."

"Oh." Elizabeth and Charlotte looked at each other. This was not what they had expected to hear. Elizabeth remembered that Charlotte had always been more charitable towards Mr Darcy's actions and motivations than she had, but Elizabeth doubted her friend had thought of only transportation as a possibility for Mrs Younge. Elizabeth knew she had not, nor would she have ever considered it.

"So does that answer your questions?"

"Yes. Yes it does. Thank you very much Mr Neville. I think we need to be off, leave you to your work. There Lizzie, now we know."

"It was no bother. Do come back anytime."

"We will. Goodbye Mr Neville."

"Goodbye ma'am, Miss Lucas."

Gathering up Amy-Jane who was a little drowsy, they left to go home. They walked home in silence, as Elizabeth wanted to talk to Charlotte about what could all mean but the middle of the street was hardly the place, but after learning all that, it was impossible to pass the time in banalities.

* * *

><p>When they arrive back, Mrs Carter greeted them affectionately and led them into a wonderful, warm front parlour. Elizabeth hadn't realised how cold it had been until then, and fussed over Amy-Jane to attempt to make up for this oversight on her part, but all her daughter wanted was to snuggle up to her mother. So before Mrs Carter returned with tea, Amy-Jane, having walked far more than she normally did, fell asleep on Elizabeth's lap.<p>

Mrs Carter returned with tea and a few scones. When she saw Amy-Jane asleep on Elizabeth's lap she quietly prepared tea for the other two as well as herself and then sat.

"So how did it go Elizabeth, Charlotte? Did you find out what happened?" This question from Mrs Carter, and the following conversation, was held in low tones not to wake Amy-Jane. Even when it got a little heated later, it was in harsher whispers not loud voices.

Elizabeth wasn't sure what she should say, or even what she wanted to say. Thankfully Charlotte was willing to talk, saving Elizabeth from having to reply.

"Yes, Mrs Carter we did. Mrs Younge was transported to Australia only a few weeks ago." Charlotte replied.

"Transported you say. Not the easiest of lives, or so I've heard, but far better prospect than most get with the local Magistrate."

"Yes, that is what Mr Neville told us. It appears that Mr Darcy had interceded on her behalf somehow, as it was thought Lord Roskill would normally have passed a more permanent sentence." Charlotte continued.

"What Christian charity from the man who was personally wronged. Funny were never heard about it, you all being so intimate with all the Darcy's and all."

"That's the odd thing Mrs Carter, it was the same with Mr Wickham. Did you know he paid for everything so Mr Wickham could be buried in Lambton Parish in Derbyshire?"

"Oh, yes I knew that Mr Wickham had been buried in Lambton. I had a letter from the Lambton Rector about it."

Elizabeth was very surprised to hear this. So she interjected in a loud whisper, leaning forward to try to disturb Amy-Jane as little as possible, "You knew? Why didn't you say anything to me about it?"

"It was when that nice Colonel was so near death, you didn't have time for anything other than caring for Amy-Jane and sleep when you came back home."

"But what about later? You could have told me then."

"Yes, I suppose I could, but it was old news by then. I can find the letter from the Rector if you want to read it?"

"Yes, please fetch it for me."

As Mrs Carter got up and walked quietly over to the desk. As she ruffled through the letters looking for the one in question she said over her shoulder "Lizzie, how about we all go to Lambton this year? It is clear from his letters the Reverend still hasn't married. You'd enjoy the role of a cleric's helpmate, it would suit your caring nature."

Elizabeth looked at Charlotte and rolled her eyes, she'd told Charlotte about Mrs Carter's desire to have Elizabeth follow in her footsteps, as a cleric's wife, particularly to the Rector that replaced her own husband in the Lambton parish.

Getting no reply, Mrs Carter continued. "It's true. Thankfully, no one there knows about your past, I've not hinted a word of it in any letter I've written. Buy a cheap ring and I'll introduce you as the widow Smith, as I've described you when writing about you to everyone there. No one would question it. I made him a naval officer and you tragically widowed before Amy-Jane was born."

"Mrs Carter! How could you. You know my views on that act of dishonesty." Elizabeth was very annoyed that Mrs Carter had bought this up again, and now she discovered that Mrs Carter had not just invented a past for her, entirely against her wishes, but told others of it.

"Don't you 'Mrs Carter' me. I know your opinion on the matter, but at least I'm considering what's best for Amy-Jane, even if you do not."

"How can you say that! I would do anything for Amy-Jane. I'd die for her if I had to."

"Yes, yes you would. But are you prepared to live for her?"

"I live every day for her, you cannot say otherwise."

"And yet you will not consider a little obscuration of your past. Selfish, that's what you are."

"I am not. A selfish act would be to hide my mistake, excusing the falsehood as that would be what is best for me. I will not live the rest of my life in a lie, as it's the easy way out. I have chosen to face up to what I did and the consequences, all of them, even if it is hard on me. But at least I can stand with my own head high."

"But it is not just you, is it? You're forcing Amy-Jane to live with it as well. It is alright now, you've accepted your fate, but what about her, what future is there for her? She will need the protection that having a widowed mother brings when she gets older and wants a family of her own. Do you want her to have to take the route you've taken? Deep down you know it, but are too stubborn, to proud to change the decision you made all those years ago."

"She'll be alright, I cope, so will she. If we don't have principles and the courage to stick with them, how can we say we are moral people?"

"Lizzie, principles are well and good, but the truly wise knows they sometimes need bending a little."

Elizabeth noticed the voices on both sides were being raised, and gestured towards Amy-Jane's sleeping form by nodding, as she said in conciliatory tones, "Mrs Carter, we've had this discussion many times before, and I doubt we will do more than agree to disagree. I notice you stopped looking through your letters a little while ago. Did you find the letter?"

"Yes, here it is. Do you want to read it?" She said little sharp in tone, thrusting the letter out towards her. Elizabeth gestured to where her arms were trapped by her daughter. "Please, can you read it... just the bit about Mr Wickham?"

Mrs Carter nodded and sat down, looking a bit calmer. After skimming through the letter, while taking sips of her tea, she found the bit she was looking for. "Ah here it is. '_I officiated at Mr Wickham's funeral today. There were far more people in attendance than I thought would be there given his reputation here in Lambton. Maybe many came to see if it was truly him being buried. No, I suppose that is not very Christian of me to think so. Anyway, Mr Darcy wrote a very nice, although short, eulogy for him, which I read out. As you can imagine, it was mostly about Mr Wickham as a boy and how they were very good boyhood friends. His later years are still much of a mystery to me, and any of the locals I asked knew nothing of them, other than unsubstantiated rumour_.'…This is the bit that prompted the Rector's letter… '_Mr Darcy wrote in the letter that accompanied Mr Wickham that he wanted it made known that Mr Wickham was tragically shot in the course of a robbery in an inn. I respected that wish as it went some ways to counter the rumours that had been circulating suggesting he had completely wasted his adult life. I cannot confirm any of these, having not met the man in question, but I imagine you know far more of the reasons he had to leave Lambton than I do.'_

'_I was willing to leave it at that, but afterwards I heard a rather different story from the carter that transported Mr Wickham's body to Lambton. It appears the tragic circumstances that led to Mr Wickham's death was that he was the one doing the robbing, and was threatening a maid to prevent his arrest at the time he was shot. When the carter said he had come all the way from Ramsgate, and that was where the events took place, and knowing that that is where you have settled, I am hoping that you will be able to let me know what actually happened, just for my own interest, you understand. Even if Mr Darcy has put a very positive note on these tragic events, which would be from the best of intentions I believe, and you confirm the carter's version, I will not pass this information on as it would be best if those here continue to believe there was some good in the lad._' So I wrote back with what I knew which, apparently, confirmed the carter's story rather than Mr Darcy's very charitable interpretation of what had happened. It also shows the Rector is a man who knows when to stick to his principles or bend them a little."

Elizabeth sat back a bit stunned, unable to think of anything to reply.

Once again Charlotte stepped in to interrupt the slightly awkward silence. "Thank you Mrs Carter. It does seem like, however estranged they became, there was a genuine strong friendship between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham in their childhood, one that Mr Wickham's actions during his final days could not overcome. I am also fortunate to have that type of friendship with you, Lizzie and your sister Jane, don't I? But it does make you think, doesn't it. Could we do as Mr Darcy did, and still honour that friendship even after all that happened?"

"I understand from my friends' letters this Mr Darcy is as well thought of as his father was. And old Mr Darcy was very highly regarded. That says a lot, as many distrust a too young master, and he was very young when he had to step into his father's shoes. Still I have not met Mr Darcy, I only know of his reputation from what I have heard." Then Elizabeth felt Mrs Carter's eyes fall on her as she continued, "Although some accounts differ quite considerably from what most say about him."

With that rebuke, the room fell silent.

Elizabeth felt annoyed with Mrs Carter rather than chastised, (although the latter was probably the aim of Mrs Carter's final statement) and she noticed even Charlotte looked a bit embarrassed.

After sometime, Charlotte asked Mrs Carter about her day and she replied. Before long Elizabeth felt calm enough to join in, although her own contribution was minimal, given how much the thoughts about everything that she had learnt this afternoon kept her attention. Thus the remaining time, while Amy-Jane slept, was spend in more pleasant conversation.

* * *

><p>The next morning, after getting less than a good night sleep, Elizabeth felt unsettled and out of sorts. Over cleaning up after breakfast Charlotte suggested it would be nice to visit the Darcy's today, but Elizabeth could not persuade her to forego the activity. When Charlotte tried to get Elizabeth to accompany her instead, Elizabeth she said that she would not, instead she would be taking Amy-Jane for another walk today, which, she reminded Charlotte had been the original plan yesterday, as there was much for her to think about, and she was not yet prepared to answer Richard's questioning.<p>

Then Charlotte suggested that she thought Amy-Jane had done more than her fair share of walking yesterday and would probably be happier playing inside with Georgiana today. While feeling rather guilty about doing so, Elizabeth was quick to agree the suggestion, and assisted Charlotte with getting Amy-Jane ready to go with her today.

After waving farewell to Charlotte and Amy-Jane, Elizabeth went into the parlour, happy that she was finally getting some time alone to think through all that she'd learnt. But the room seemed stifling and Elizabeth kept recalling when Mr Darcy was in this very room, first as he calmly talked, then him pacing, agitated and finally as the dejected, confused man he was just before he left. These memories kept disrupting her thoughts and she became frustrated with it all.

Feeling the need to get out, exactly where did not matter, she told Mrs Carter she would be out for some time, but would be back well before dark. Wrapping up in long woollen coat, hat and scarf she left the house. Initially she headed for the path that led to the lighthouse, but that just bought up the memories of the very first time she met Mr Darcy, how much she enjoyed their debates and the silliness on the beach until, of course, he ruined it.

Not feeling like wandering around Ramsgate, where she could likely expect to meet various friends, Elizabeth headed to the edge of the port, and down to the path along the eastern pier. At the very end, in the slightly widened part, surrounded by rushing waters and crashing waves, with only seagulls as companions, Elizabeth found the solitude she needed to think.

As the thoughts and contradictions that yesterday's discoveries presented swirled around in her head, one question slowly rose to the forefront of her mind, one that demanded to be answered - what that Richard had said and at the time Elizabeth was happy to agree with, that prompted finding all of this… What was it? For an agonisingly long time – it seemed like many minutes, but likely far less than that, the answer came… You measure a man by how he treats those that sin against him… Or words to that effect. How easy was it to agree to that when she 'just knew' Mr Darcy would have wanted Mrs Younge to receive capital punishment. It was all so perplexing, how had she had got herself in this fix? The worse thing about this whole mess was Elizabeth actually did believe that your actions are the best method to determine your goodness, your worth. Which was why she so readily agreed to it at the time. It was just she had expected to be proven right, not wrong.

So what did this mean about her understanding of Mr Darcy's character? Was she wrong about him? If she was, and what she had just discovered strongly suggested this was the case, she was very, very wrong, so completely wrong, as to make her accusations the raving of a mad woman. But what about the rest of his actions, the hypocritical or immoral ones, the ones she knew about, they were a convincing counter argument.

Or were they…

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><p>.<p>

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**Recently I have been writing one chapter of Darcy in London, then swapping to one of Elizabeth in Ramsgate. How have you found this? Please let me know.**


	42. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 7

**While this relates to a review that 'mef' left, this is a comment I've had from a few reviews or PM's - why does Elizabeth insist on being an unmarried mother, where there are very good reasons for not doing so. I have posted a topic on this in my forum if you are interested ( myforums / Fost / 2949543 / ), that fully explains it, but the gist of it is:**

**A) The decision not to pretend to be a widow was made when Elizabeth was an emotional 15 year old, a teenager reacting against adults trying to run her life.  
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**B) While now she'd make a different decision if the situation occurred now instead of then, she's become entrenched in her decision and so is unwilling to change it. **

**What do you think? Please let me know either by review or use my forum.**

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**Anyway, enough of that, here is the next chapter, another that didn't quite come out as I had planned, but I think is actually better as a result, please enjoy… **

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><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 7<strong>

After negotiating the wet streets, a slightly damp Darcy stood on the steps of his Grandmother's house, possibly even more nervous today than he had been yesterday. He knew that he had to start today by giving an account of all his dealings with Elizabeth, and specifically a full account of his proposal, whatever his Grandmothers intentions had been. Given what he now knew, he was almost certain he'd not get even an ounce of sympathy from her after hearing of Elizabeth's refusal. In fact, he was expecting the complete opposite. Spending a moment to bolster his resolve, Darcy mounted the steps, with all the outward appearance of a confident and assured gentleman, feeling none of it, the grey weather matching his mood. Patting his coat, he heard the reassuring sound of the crinkle of paper, good, he'd remembered the letter, so as prepared as he could be, he knocked on the door to his Grandmother's residence.

This time Hatfield led him upstairs to a sitting room that formed part of his Grandmother's apartments. It was decorated with a far more modest and personal palate, dominated by a second floor bay window that looked out over the street below. Seeing his Grandmother sitting on a divan, wrapped in a layer of blankets and shawls, Darcy hurried over.

"Ah, Fitzwilliam, good to see you."

"The same Grandmother. Is there anything wrong? Can I…?"

"Nothing other than old age dear. This cold, damp weather plays havoc with my joint and the fire never seems to help."

"Are you sure there is nothing…"

"Oh, stop it Fitzwilliam. I've enough people fussing about. Don't ruin my day by adding yourself to their number."

"Sorry Grandmother. In that case, you'll get no fussing from me."

"Good."

"Should I ring for tea?"

"No bother, Hatfield was told to arrange it as soon as you arrive, so it shouldn't be long… Oh, do sit down Fitzwilliam, you're looming again."

Darcy, not realising he hadn't already, sat on the nearest seat. "Sorry Grandmother."

""I hope you didn't do that… you know… loom… over your lady friend… what was her name… ah yes, Elizabeth, too often. It can be very off putting you know."

"Actually, it was about her…" The rest of Darcy's words were cut off with a knock on the door. They made do with small talk until the tea service had been completed. Sitting back, now they were alone again, Darcy continued from where he'd been interrupted, "It is about Elizabeth that I wish to talk about. I feel I was remiss in not telling you a few things yesterday that I feel I must clear up first."

At this Darcy paused, trying to work out just how to go about it.

"…and they are?" Said his Grandmother, with a slight tone of annoyance in her voice.

"Um… You mentioned me needing to woo Elizabeth Smith."

"Yes. Yes. You'll need to do a bit of work to overcome your bad start, but shouldn't be that much of a problem, if you go slowly at first."

"That is the problem. I went a bit further than that." Darcy said sheepishly.

"You did what?" Darcy could tell that she'd completely misunderstood what he meant.

"No! Not that! I didn't. No. I made her an offer, an offer of marriage."

"You did what?"

"I offered her my hand in marriage."

"You made her an offer? When? You've not had time. Unless she's here in London. Is she in London?"

"No, she's still in Ramsgate. I made my offer just after Christmas. I suppose I don't have to say it, but yes, she refused me. That is also when I discovered her true feelings for me."

"Well, I'm not sure I like this Elizabeth that much, she seems very deceitful."

"Deceitful? No, not at all, she was very honest, in many ways too honest."

"But she led you on, thinking that your advances would be welcomed."

"It was not like that, she didn't lead me on. I, sort of, surprised her with it."

"So you had not hinted at it? Tried to woo her a bit?"

Here it was, confession time. Darcy gulped, as he realised now, in hindsight how silly his behaviour would seem. "No, no I didn't. I was worried at first, well once I realised I desired her, but I was not willing to contemplate marriage at first, that I'd be setting up expectations that I'd not want to fulfil so I stayed a little reserved. That was why, when I worked out how we could be wed, I managed to work some time alone with her, and just said it. You know, made an offer."

"Surprised her with an offer? Good God Fitzwilliam, what on earth were you thinking? You knew she hated you."

"Well, no I didn't. I hadn't seen much of her at all when I returned to Ramsgate, the explanation was that she had neglected her local acquaintances having previously devoted time caring for Richard. Come to think of it, I didn't see her at all the whole of the week before Christmas."

"And that gave you no clue to how she was feeling."

"I didn't think about it that way."

"You didn't think… that's certainly obvious, so how did it happen? Tell me about your proposal."

Hesitantly at first, as Darcy was unsure of how much detail to tell, and what reception he would have to what he related, he told his Grandmother how his offer was made, was summarily rejected and the argument the ensued afterwards. Where he had summarised, she asked for more detail, although Darcy was able to quote, pretty much word for word, some of Elizabeth's answers, as those bits seemed seared into his memory, it was what he said to prompt some of it was less clear.

The relating of the proposal took some time as it was not told in any specific order, as Darcy remembered it more in order of importance than chronologically, so the false accusations came before the proposal itself, but his Grandmother was able to tease out the broad narrative of what happened. That was not to say this was not also punctuated by the more than occasional, "you didn't", "you what?" and similar, and even what was the most painful for him a sharp "Fitzwilliam!"

Even with the admonishment for what he said Darcy was honest and open in all of it apart from one thing that had troubled Darcy from the time he realised he needed to tell all of this, which was whether or not to tell of how Amy-Jane was conceived. He was almost certain Elizabeth would not want it generally known. In the end he decided it might be wiser to leave this out, which he did, only relating how she thought he was like his cousin, in sharing his immorality.

Most of the way through explaining this Darcy realised he'd still not mentioned the letter, and his need of assistance with it, so once done with the proposal itself, he carried on with his tale, going into how he wrote to her to clear up her false accusations. Reaching into his coat Darcy explained he had this letter with him as he did not deliver it, given that at the time he thought he was calm and rational, but his re-reading of it the next morning showed it to be written with a dreadful bitterness of spirit.

Having explained how he had tried to rewrite it once he returned to London, but had to consign this newer effort to the fire as it was condescending, proud and boastful, not worth the paper it was written on, let alone the time taken to write it. As he handed it over he asked "Please Grandmother, read this and let me know where I have gone wrong. I know it is wrong, but I cannot, for life of me, work out what it is, or how to correct it."

The Dowager Countess took the letter from his hands and held it up to the mediocre sunlight that was trying to shine through the grey cloud.

"Should I get a candlestick?" Darcy was half out of his seat, before his Grandmother gestured him to sit back down.

"Shh… let me read. Your writing is fine, although you need to improve your style, as I've said before."

"Well..?" said Darcy anxiously when it appeared she might have finished.

"I haven't finished, just rereading this first bit. Get yourself another cup of tea if you need to do something with your hands… Oh, while you're up, get me one as well."

"Sorry. I'll get your tea." Darcy's Grandmother gestured for him to stay silent, so he handed her tea over without a word, before getting a refill for himself.

Eventually she finished reading, going over it several times. Folding up the letter, she handed it back while saying, "Oh well, I'm sure there is more to this than that one day, to get a better idea about what you can do to fix this I need to know more than in here, or what you've told me, so… When did you first meet Elizabeth Smith?"

This question actually caused Darcy to pause. It was as if Elizabeth had always been part of his life, it was just as if he hadn't realised it until it happened. Which was why he was certain that he had to fix what had happened and remove her misconceptions. It could not feel so right and yet not be.

So Darcy started with the walk to the lighthouse, and went from there. Actually, it was easier to talk about her now, having cleared the air about his unsuccessful proposal. Realising he had to be honest, he told her the story warts-and-all. It was easy for Darcy to wax lyrical on the great conversations, the lively debates, the chess games both won and lost and a few of the little acts of kindness he noticed her do, even how Richard spotted his attraction before he had put a name to it, and how his cousin's comments provoked a great deal of jealousy until Richard admitted it was a ploy to get Darcy to reveal his own feelings in the matter. What was harder was to tell of, in hindsight far easier to recognise them as such, the insults, the slights and how, as his attraction grew, but before he decided to make an offer at all, he withdrew to prevent her getting the wrong idea. And finally their frosty trip to London, and her withdrawal from interaction with him once he returned to Ramsgate, something that he had not recognised at the time, but was obvious now.

It was late morning, and two cups of tea later that Darcy had finished this second lot of explanation.

"I still see a good deal to hope for Fitzwilliam. No need to despair."

"How can you say that, after I've just explained everything that has happened? Given, as it is obvious to me now, she was avoiding me even before she refused my offer."

"Simple. If you'd let me approach it as I did yesterday, by asking a question?"

"Certainly Grandmother. I think I learnt more that way than had you just told me."

"In that case; what is the antithesis of love?"

Darcy answered immediately, "Hate."

"You weren't listening Fitzwilliam. I did not say opposite, I said antithesis."

"Oh… Umm… I can only think of hate, but you've made it clear that that is wrong… Hmm… Jealousy…? No… Um… Selfishness?" On saying this last one Darcy felt very pleased to see he'd surprised his Grandmother, he'd not often been able to do that to her.

"Well done Fitzwilliam, selfishness is a very good answer, but it is still a form of love, in that it is a love of self not of others, but most do not recognise it as such. But well done, you are on the right path. Have another go, but to a more precise question. What is the antithesis of romantic love?"

Darcy sat for a while thinking. The obvious answer of hate was out. So was jealousy or selfishness - although he rather liked that as an answer, and Grandmother thought it was good – dislike? No, that was just a watered down version of hate. Fear. Fear or disgust is good, but no, it is not specific to romantic love, like selfishness it would apply to a more general love. Sadness, no stronger, despair. Yes, despair occurs when a romantic love is over, he'd had felt a great deal of that himself. But as he thought further on this, Darcy realised despair was an outcome of failed love not its antithesis.

Now Darcy was baffled, emotions and feelings were far more the purview of women than men, putting him a considerable disadvantage to his Grandmother. Yet as he looked over at her, she looked expectantly back at him, as if she assumed he would work it out.

Best try a different tack. What about one of the 7 deadly sins. It was a possibility. What were they? Ah, of course; Pride, no. Gluttony, definitely not. Sloth, no. Envy, no? No, as jealousy was out. Wrath, no, yes… well, maybe? Wrath as anger could fit, but even couples in love can fight, so that's not likely. What was last one…? Avarice! maybe…? Could be as that is the love of money would preclude romantic love of a person, but that seemed a long bow to draw, a sort of alternative to selfishness. Darcy counted out the list again in his mind, realising he'd actually only had considered six of the seven. Then he remembered the made-up word 'SALIGIA' he'd been taught at school, as it was the first letters of the seven deadly sins in Latin, so counted these out: _superbia_ - pride, _avaritia_ - avarice, _luxuria_ - lust, that was the one he'd missed – lust! But not wanting to leave the list unfinished, he counted off the last four, _invidia_ - envy, _gula_ - gluttony, _ira_ – anger, _acedia_ – sloth.

For the first time for several weeks, Darcy was enjoying himself, she had challenged how he thought of the world, and his place in it, yesterday, and was doing it again today. It was even more pleasing that he'd first surprised her with a thought provoking answer, if not the one she was after, he realised he'd got the answer in lust. Lust, as uncontrolled animal urges, must be the very antithesis of the romantic, chaste love, as it was these finer emotions that separated man from the beasts, but lust, lust was a return to them.

"Grandmother, I've got it! Lust! Lust is the answer." Darcy felt very proud to have worked it out.

"Why?" Oh. Darcy felt a bit deflated; it wasn't the answer she wanted after all, but maybe it could be, given a chance to justify himself. "Lust is purely animal in nature, uncontrolled, where romance is chaste, pure and therefore a higher emotion. The beast's experience lust, but only men can love."

"Your answer has a robust justification, but no, lust definitely not the answer. Romantic love does not have to be pure, chaste. In fact it is better, for both parties, if it isn't. Lust can, and should, play a part in romance, in a marriage. I see you looking sceptically at me, so I'll explain further. The extremes of lust you describe shouldn't occur, but the milder form, let's call it as it is usually known, desire, is more important than you think. You should desire your wife, and she you. And not in this 'pure, chaste' rubbish all you young people seem so caught up with. No, real physical desire is good for a marriage. You both should want to act lustily in private, it is this failure that causes men to stray. I've never had that problem with any of my men."

"Grandmother!"

"What. Oh don't act all prudish now. You have finally reached the point of desiring a lady as your wife, why shouldn't I tell you how to keep her yours for the rest of your natural life? I doubt your father would have given you dissimilar advice. Yes, your father knew how to keep your mother happy, and thanks to my advice, she did the same for him. I'd give your Elizabeth the same advice I gave your mother, 'be a perfect lady in the parlour, but a wanton mistress in the boudoir'. Your Aunt Catherine rejected this advice and see what that got her. Her husband certainly didn't worry about a cold bed at night, even when she did. Your uncle the earl was much better, but then he had my husband to give him the advice he needed while I talked to the countess. Rather practical lady. She came back for more advice later, which shows considerable presence of mind if you ask me."

Darcy sat through that entire monologue, like a stunned mullet. This was far more information about his parents, his grandparents and even his aunts and uncles than he'd wanted. It was not that he didn't realise that his parents thus grandparents and… others… must do the private activities that led to children, but to be confronted with it like this… he would rather not continue as she certainly looked like she might.

"Oh. Well if it is not lust, as you say, as in the form of desire it is needed, I'm baffled. But if it is not that important I can think more on it and get back to you."

"Don't worry Fitzwilliam, I've finished on that subject, for now. Anyway I know if I don't tell you, it'll gnaw away at you until you solve it, and you have more important things to deal with so I'll put you out of your misery. The answer is… indifference."

"Indifference?"

"Yes, indifference. Love and hate are just different sides to the same coin – both are passionate, strong emotions. Think how quickly love can turn to hate. Yes? Well, it is possible for hate to become love, particularly if there is no genuine reason for the hatred. I've seen it happen, if the one that loves first is willing to stay the distance. It is not the matter of a moment, or a letter, but it is very possible."

Wow! Darcy finally felt maybe there was real hope. "Are you sure? She was most adamant in her rejection."

"Yes but the rejection was passionate, was it not? And in doing so she gave clues as to what of your actions she was rejecting."

"My actions? But I explained how she accused me of any number of things I had not done, and it was because of those that led to her rejecting my offer."

"No Fitzwilliam. That was not why she rejected you. Think back, she had rejected you before bringing up what she thought you had done, and that was well down the list of reasons she gave."

"Are you sure? It was said most forcefully."

"Only because she'd work herself up to that state by the time she remembered to add that to your list of transgressions. There is a lot for you to work on. If you approach her as you are now, she will reject you again."

"But what about her misconceptions? Can't I do something to correct those? You could help me correct the letter I wrote."

"Do you honestly think she'd read it, if you gave it to her now?"

"No."

"Exactly. No. But it doesn't matter, her misconceptions are the least of your problems."

"They are?"

"Of course they are. What she said was right you know. Don't look at me like that, I'm your Grandmother… That's better… You can't deny it, you have a lot to fix."

"I do? The problem is that she hates me, for what I haven't done. How can I not do something I haven't done?"

"We've finally come to the main problem. You don't even realise why you were rejected. I am feeling a little tired. Come back tomorrow, mid-afternoon if you have worked it out. Actually, come back anyway, as I am sure you'll not work out much of it."

"But I know why she rejected me, I told you she believes me to be a different to than the man I actually am."

"You aren't listening Fitzwilliam. While that contributed, what you told me, if you remembered her words, or the gist of them in any case, correctly, and I am sure you did, they tell you why you were rejected."

"I don't understand."

"No, of course you don't, you're a man. Actually, don't bother trying to work it out. What I want you to do is to write out in chronological order, or as best you can remember, of what you said the day you made your offer, and all her replies. Once you've done that you can come back to me."

"I'll get right on it. I will see you tomorrow. If, as you've said, I can change her hate to love, I can do this for you, even if it takes all night."

"You are doing this for yourself, not me. But for whatever reason, I'm glad you are willing to do it. But I am warning you, this is only the first step of many, and it will not always be this easy. You must believe she is worth all of it."

"She is Grandmother, I truly believe she is, it is like I've finally found the missing part of my heart. So how many and whatever the steps, I am willing to take them."

"Good. Good to hear. So, off you go, and I shall see you tomorrow."

Darcy knew when he was dismissed so stood as he said. "Thank you, Grandmother, until tomorrow afternoon then. Good bye."

"Good bye Fitzwilliam."

* * *

><p>Darcy found writing out his proposal in chronological order, accurately recording as much as he could remember, more difficult than it first sounded. In the end he resorted to what he had done for the rewrite of his letter, writing each part on a separate piece of paper, and assembling them into a whole later. While writing out the part when Charles and Jane was bought up, reminded Darcy that he best send another letter to Charles, having not received a reply to his first one yet. While that was not yet a cause for concern, given how poor a correspondent Bingley could be, Darcy worried that the lack of reply was due to a deterioration of his friend's spirit than his usual carelessness. Maybe a visit was in order, once the weather improved, if Charles did not return to town or reply soon. So he took a little time out from what he was doing to scribble a short letter, before returning to the task at hand, happy to focus on the doing, hoping that the reason why would become clearer later.<p>

When Darcy got to where Elizabeth revealed Amy-Jane's parentage, he vacillated over what, if anything of this to include. He wrote this out several times, either skipping the whole of it entirely or skimming over it, but each time that page ended in the fire – and each time Darcy watch to ensure it had been completely consumed – in the end, he related all of it, in its entirety, leaving nothing out. Somehow it felt right to do so, although he did offer a silent apology to Elizabeth on sharing a confidence he knew she'd rather not have others know, but Darcy did justify it with his Grandmother, of all people would be the best person to know if others were to.

By the time he had finished there were a good number of pages, each with a part of his proposal and her rejection. While assembling this into a definitive order, Darcy discovered it was necessary to combine a few pages, when he had remembered different bits of the same part at different times. By the time the candles had burnt down to almost stubs, (gosh the candle bill will be steep this month), Darcy had probably read and re-read, corrected and copied, each page a number of times, and finally was happy with it as a narrative, but the nagging feeling of not understanding why he was doing this became worse.

Consigning all but the final pages to the fire and watching them burn Darcy felt a weariness and despair grip at his heart. He was certain that his grandmother had him do this so he'd realise something important and thus learn from it, but he couldn't see it at all. Did his Grandmother want him to examine his words? Or was it Elizabeth's words? The frustration of not understanding was tying his head in knots. Even with that frustration, this dispassionate focus on the events also made what his Grandmother had said much far clearer. She was right, Elizabeth had rejected him immediately after he had his offer, she only mentioned her misperceptions of his character when he demanded a reason, and it was only two of a number of reasons for that rejection. Darcy's admiration for his Grandmother grew as he realised that she recognised the conclusion he was just realising, without the aid of having written it down in this detail as he had done.

Task completed, but feeling that he'd made no further progress towards resolving the situation, Darcy locked the pages in his desk, blew out all but one candle and plodded upstairs to bed.

* * *

><p>Darcy woke early, having not slept that well. After breakfast, the morning was spent hurrying through the usual day's correspondence. Flicking first through the business letters, putting aside those that were not urgent and needed careful consideration, as Darcy knew he was not in the right frame of mind to do justice to any issue they contained, he was able to finish writing replies to those he had to with some time to go before lunch. That left him time to see to the personal letters, and he sorted through them, putting aside all the invites and similar.<p>

Annoyingly, there was still no response from Charles, although Darcy was well pleased to get a letter from his aunt, the Countess of Matlock, who was still in Scotland with her daughter. They were all doing well, her first grandson – the first official Matlock grandchild – Sumerville's illegitimate daughters were not acknowledged – had a bout of colic, but was fine now and growing and changing daily, by the report. He penned a quick reply, offering the usual sentiments, but not sure beyond that, what to write. The whole realm of parenthood was alien to him.

There was the regular letter from Georgiana, with a note from Richard enclosed within. Darcy put Richard's note aside to read what his sister had to say first. Her letter was cheerful, with only a little of the melancholy caused by Wickham's betrayal evident, as her earlier letters had previously indicated. It was full of her usual chit-chat, although Darcy was disappointed not to read much mention of Elizabeth, even if Amy-Jane and her precocious comments featured a lot. Darcy was caught in a quandary, should he actually ask Georgiana about Elizabeth, or at least to find out how she is? But how could he word it in a way that would not mean he'd have to explain why? Not thinking of anyway to bring it up, Darcy replied in kind (well, as best his 'factual prose', a comment by his Grandmother that still smarted a bit, allowed), mentioning all the news from Scotland and that he'd met with the Dowager Countess, if not the reason why.

Finishing that, Darcy opened Richard's note, which was cryptic to say the least:

_My prison room,_

_Upstairs,_

_Ramsgate,_

_Dear cousin,_

_This prisoner is hopping to be let out for the first time soon. Fought valiantly the battle of the stairs, won the way up but not yet the way down, but victory will be mine. Good preparation for Boney later this year!_

_I've spent considerable time thinking about your argument and subsequent departure. Have made progress on infiltrating the enemy camp and managed suborned an ally to assist. Proven to be a good source of information. Attacking problem on multiple fronts, hope to report success in the near future._

_Explain further when I arrive back in London, which should not be too far away._

_Yours,_

_Prisoner X - Col. Richard_

_P.S. Burn all correspondence after memorising, lest it fall into enemy hands._

What on earth? Darcy felt that maybe Richard had been trapped inside by his injury too long, and was having fun at his expense, although the line _'thinking about your argument and subsequent departure'_ was worrying. It could only be a reference to his proposal and his hasty departure the next day. What had Richard discovered? What had he guessed, and got wrong? Darcy would rather not have Richard pry into his affairs, imagining what further damage his irreverent attitude could do, or is doing, as his letter appeared to suggest was already happening. Best try to shut the gate before the all horses have bolted, so Darcy wrote a similar note in reply:

_My Library_

_Darcy House_

_London,_

_Dear cousin,_

_Negotiations are well underway to secure your release. Quarters are available here as soon as you are released to travel. Remember we have to battle the Kent Dragon at Easter._

_Stop, repeat stop all subversive activities as discovery of these activities could put my future in jeopardy. Have things in hand this end. Have involved the head of the house in resolving this, and making considerable progress._

_Yours,_

_Comrade in arms – F Darcy _

_P.S. I have soaked this paper in white wine to make the eating easier when you dispose of it._

Folding this up, he tucked it into Georgiana's letter, sealed it and put it with all the other letters to post.

Having dealt with the important letters, Darcy spent the remaining time before luncheon writing apologies to most of the various invitations that arrived this morning, before getting up and going into the dining room for his midday meal.

* * *

><p>Impatient to get to his Grandmother's, Darcy picked up his pages of notes and headed directly around there straight after lunch, hoping that his Grandmother would not mind him being early. Unfortunately she was not ready, so he was shown to the same sitting room, but asked to wait. While doing so, Darcy could not help but wander around the room, looking at various knick-knacks his Grandmother had accumulated in her nearly eighty years of life. As he wandered past a collection of miniatures, he stopped abruptly. What was his Grandmother doing with one of Amy-Jane? Looking again, it wasn't of her. Or if it was, the painter, who had gotten every feature correct, down to the cheeky grin, had her hair much lighter than it was in reality.<p>

Picking it up, and checking it more closely, Darcy realised that there were other, subtle differences, but the resemblance was remarkable. Looking at the back, where the date 1782 was written, meant it was most likely of his eldest cousin, Viscount Sumerville as a child, than anyone else. If it was his cousin, and he had any doubt about Elizabeth's story, not that he had, this would confirm Amy-Jane's parentage, irrefutably. But, just to make sure he pocketed it, to ask Grandmother later. Funny how neither Richard nor I ever noticed the family resemblance, thought Darcy, maybe I should write and hint about it to him. No, best not, it was not my confidence to share, and Elizabeth would be mortified that he'd told anyone, particularly Richard, who she had to deal with on a day to day basis, or so Darcy hoped, that she was visiting regularly again.

It did not take long before the Dowager Countess walked in.

"Good afternoon Fitzwilliam. You're here early."

"Good afternoon Grandmother. Yes, sorry, finished everything I had to do this morning, and saw no point wasting time before coming here."

"No problem. Take a seat."

"Grandmother, one thing first. Who is this?" Darcy said holding out the miniature, hoping to get confirmation of his guess.

"Oh that, let's see." His Grandmother took it off him. "Hmmm… that's your cousin Summerville as a child." She turned it over and peered at the back. "Oh I can't read this… Tell me the date, please dear."

"That's who I thought it was. I'm sure the date is 1782, which is about 4 years before I was born."

"That would make sense, your cousin would have been five or six when that likeness was painted. Why the interest in that miniature?"

"I'll explain later, if I can."

"Fine. Did you write out what I ask?" Darcy handed her his work of all last evening as she sat and then he did in the same seats as yesterday. He watched as she read through the pages, nodding or shaking her head at various points. Darcy hoped that his words were receiving a reasonable share of the nods, but suspected they weren't.

Darcy noticed she had got to the last few pages when she paled, looked up and said, "Could this be true?"

"It is. I've just seen confirmation of it."

"The miniature?"

"Apart from Amy-Jane taking her mother's hair you'd swear this was of her, not him. They even have the same smile, although I distrust his motives every time I see it, on her it is sweet and charming."

"Oh." There was a long pause while Dowager Countess just sat there, looking despondent before she smiled weakly at him, picked up the notes again and continued reading. His Grandmother's reaction to learning of Sumerville's actions brought home to Darcy how so badly wronged Elizabeth had been by his cousin. And, as he realised then, it was not her and her daughter's life that was affected, it appeared that the whole Bennet family had been bought low by Sumerville's actions. While still pondering this, Darcy realised his Grandmother was speaking to him.

"… been very thorough. I take it this is everything you can remember?"

"Yes, it is a faithful narrative of everything said that day, certainly her words, mine I am less sure about. You can imagine her words have burned indelibly into my heart."

"You both were remarkably forthright with each other. There can be no doubt of that. Still, what did this tell you about why you were rejected?"

Darcy almost felt like crying out in frustration. He still didn't understand. He'd not got whatever lesson she'd hoped he'd learn, and felt like a failure because of it.

"I'm sorry Grandmother, but I have to admit defeat, I'm no clearer as to why as I was yesterday, the day before that, or even before coming to see you. I'm missing something important aren't I?"

"Yes, yes you are. Although Elizabeth even tells you what your real failures are."

"She does?"

"Yes, in many different ways, in fact. Are you sure you are reading everything you have written?"

"Yes?" Darcy could not help but feel confused.

The Dowager Countess sat forward in her chair for a minute or so, looking at him. Darcy wasn't sure quite what it was she was looking for, but she seemed to find it before too long and sat back.

"Well Fitzwilliam, you are definitely telling the truth, you have no idea, do you?"

"No."

"Right, back to questions, you don't mind do you?"

"Part of me just wants you to tell me, but I've realised that I've learnt far more from having to think about your questions than I would've had you just told me. So, please Grandmother, ask away..."

"You remember what your answer was to the first question I asked about love?"

"The antithesis...? Yes, lust."

"No the answer you gave before that."

Darcy had to think a moment, but then it came to him..."Selfishness."

"Yes. Good. Now reread this and tell me, oh assume the gentleman is not you, and tell me what he most displays in his words. Would selfishness be first, or at least high on the list? What about pride, or arrogance? She even accuses you of being heartless, and if this is her main experience of you, she might well have been correct." At this she thrust the notes back at him, looking rather angry.

Darcy reluctantly took the notes back off her. Rather than read the words he knew by heart now he asked. "I didn't come across like that, did I? I only wanted only to be been honest and up front about the difficulties we would have if we married, and what I planned to do to fix them."

"Listen to yourself even now, 'I wanted' and "I planned'. Where did Elizabeth fit into this? Hmmm...? Do you think your grandfather mentioned any of these to me? Do you think I didn't know them already? What about Elizabeth, do you think she doesn't already know this either?"

"No, of course she knows. But, what about Grandfather and you, you know... your history. No one knows, even now."

"Yes, but that was my decision. I chose to conceal my past, for his sake. He never asked me to lie about it. He was willing to risk the loss of his reputation in marrying me. Yet you demand this of her, as a matter of right, and then ask her to give up her child as well. Very badly done."

"Oh." Darcy felt an inch high. He'd not felt so humbled in his life.

"Yes Fitzwilliam, oh. So what does any woman want? What do you think your Elizabeth wants? Respectability? A life like that she left? To live at Pemberley, with all the servants?"

"Yes?" Darcy assumed she'd want all of that, isn't that what anyone want, a good life, to be comfortable and free of the fear of destitution?

"No, Fitzwilliam. You have a lot to learn. A woman, any woman, Elizabeth included, wants to be loved and cherished. To think that her husband cares more about her than he does himself. That's what Elizabeth wanted to hear. That he'd give up everything for her, not that she'd have to give up everything to have him... Sorry to be this harsh on you Fitzwilliam, but I thought you were bought up better than this! I know from your many acts of kindness, that you do without the consideration of praise or reward... No don't deny it, I know of the two of your cousin's cast offs that you care for. I even know of what you did for that despicable Wickham character. This is who you are, but that..." She pointed to the notes he still held..."That, that there shows you at your worst, not your best... How you thought that selfish arrogance, that list of demands was the way to woo a woman I don't know. That is why you were rejected, and rightly so."

She sat back in her chair, looking as tired and weary as all of her eighty years.

"I'm so sorry Grandmother. But what can I do? What can I do?..." The last was said in real despair, she'd burst all his pretentions, held him in up to a mirror, and he didn't like what he was shown.

"Yet, even with your heavy handed mistakes, I can tell you love her, in your limited way. You do love Elizabeth Smith, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do. I feel like my life can be divided in two, at first I was just marking time waiting for Elizabeth and then I found her. The second part started probably back on that long walk to the lighthouse, the very first time we met."

"Good. That is how it should be. Now to fix this, you will have to fix yourself. Are you prepared to do that?"

"Yes of course Grandmother."

"Alright. You say you love her, but what is love? Be brief."

Oh dear, Darcy knew philosophy, the classics, mathematics, estate management, and a range of other topics, but none of them gave him a clue to the answer to this simple question. "I'm sorry Grandmother, but I just don't know, I don't know..." He could feel the tears well up.

"Shh... Don't worry. There is an easy answer. On that side table. Take the book second from the bottom."

Darcy was stunned, the answer was in a book all a long? He hurried over and grabbed the unadorned slim volume, noting it was printed on fine paper, with gold edging. As he strode back his chair as she gave him instructions. "Fitzwilliam, open it to First Corinthians, Chapter 13 or 14. Try Chapter 13 first."

So Darcy opened the bible, or the New Testament and, finding the appropriate place, read in a clear voice, _"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I give all my goods to feed the poor, and deliver up my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love suffereth long and is kind; love envieth not; love acteth not rashly, is not puffed up: Doth not behave indecently, seeketh not her own, is not provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth: Covereth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. And when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall vanish away. When I was a child I talked as a child; I understood as a child, I reasoned as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. And now we see by means of a glass obscurely; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then I shall know, even as also I am known. And now abide these three, faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is love."_

"Grandmother, I don't remember this... Isn't it faith, hope and charity?"

"Bah, in your silly King James version, this the John Wesley New Testament, written for the people to understand, not for kings to rule. So read that middle bit again... Starting from 'Love suffereth'..."

"_Love suffereth long and is kind; love envieth not; love acteth not rashly, is not puffed up: Doth not behave indecently, seeketh not her own, is not provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth: Covereth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth: but where..."_

"Stop there. That is what you need to think of, it explains how you need to be. Go away think of what you said to her with this as your yard stick. Then come back to me with your thoughts. We will talk again later."

Darcy sat there in silence. What could he say? She'd just showed him how insufficient were all his pretensions if he wanted to be pleasing a woman worthy as Elizabeth.

Silently, not wanting to speak, he got up, kissed his Grandmother, waved goodbye and walked out of the room and down the stairs. Again in silence he accepted his coat, hat and cane, and exited the Matlock Dowager House for the walk back to his own residence.

* * *

><p>It was quite late when Darcy climbed up his own stairs and was let into Darcy House. He'd walked a great distance, not aimlessly, but without a destination in mind, before finally feeling up to going home. Or was it just his residence? Shaking his head to clear it from everything he was thinking, he handed his coat and hat to Steele and threw his cane in the stand by the door.<p>

"Sir." Steel was still standing there after dealing with his coat and hat.

"Yes Steele. What is it?"

"A letter for you sir. I know it will be of interest. It is from Mr Bingley, sir." He handed Darcy a letter.

"Thank you Steele. Dinner in an hour? I'll be in the library."

"Very good sir."

Darcy started opening Bingley's letter as he walked off towards the library.


	43. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 8

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 8**

So it was while Elizabeth was spending her time in deep though at the end of the breakwater that Charlotte, after leaving Amy-Jane with Georgiana, who expressed her delight in seeing her favourite young girl, went up to see Richard. She found him pacing around his room under the watchful eye of Sergeant O'Connor.

There was a "Morning Miss Lucas." from Sergeant O'Connor who saw her first, then a cheeky "A very good morn to beautiful lady." from Richard, who started to make a leg, but stopped only part way down.

"Morning Sergeant, morning Richard. So how is my invalid today? You're not over doing it are you?" Charlotte noticed his incomplete bow and that he was looking a little pale and drawn about the eyes.

"Not at all nurse, I've been very good. I was able to go up the stairs entirely on my own today, but going down still defeats me. While I may have lost the battle today, I will win the campaign."

"That's very good news Richard. I'm so pleased you have your mobility back."

"Yes it is great isn't it. Hey Charlotte, I can bend completely over now. I'll show you." And, now only a few feet away from her, he proceeded to do so with such a wobble that she felt she had to rush to his aid. Once she had grabbed him and helped him stand upright again, she blushed bright red, realising that maybe she should have left it for O'Connor to assist. After Charlotte had let go she wondered whether his wobble was deliberate, as he showed none of it as he went to sit down. As she calmed down, Charlotte sat in the chair on the other side of his side table.

"I shall just go get some tea, sir. You will be alright, won't you?" said O'Connor as he headed for the door. "I hope Mrs Pennywise has some hot water ready, but I suspect not. I could be some time."

After he had gone, Charlotte looked at Richard, who was looking back at her, and they both burst into laughter at the same time.

"Well that was subtle." said Richard as he regained his composure a little before she did.

"It was, wasn't it? Still, it gives me a chance to say that your idea was brilliant, without others around for my praise to inflate your ego much further."

"Of course it was. All my ideas are." Richard said with some relish. Then he ruined it by adding, in a much more uncertain voice. "What idea was that?"

"Asking Elizabeth to find out what happened to Mrs Younge. That she was transported not hung really discomposed Elizabeth, as she was convinced Mrs Younge was sentenced to hang, and that was the outcome that Mr Darcy would have wanted. Came as a real shock when the Court Clerk told her that Mr Darcy forced the magistrate not to pass the expected capital sentence. Shook her up I can tell you."

"It was good wasn't it? Do you really think it had some effect?"

"Lizzie didn't come today because she wanted time to think, so yes, yes I do think that this might be the start of her having a more objective view of your cousin."

"That's a start."

"Whether that changes things enough so it meant they would not strike sparks off each other if in close proximity I cannot tell. She's been so wilfully ignorant, can't see the wood for the trees where your cousin is involved. Elizabeth still thinks he dislikes her."

"The antagonism is almost all in one direction, as far as I can tell. Darcy was dejected rather than vengeful towards Elizabeth, as some gentlemen when rejected can be. But I have the impression that Darcy will not give up this easily. Once he's licked his wounds, mark my words he'll be back."

"I hope it is not too soon."

"Why?"

"He needs to give her time, time to get over her antipathy towards him. Although I think this may've already started, if only very tentatively. She did tell a friend of hers yesterday that threatened Mr Darcy that he had not bothered her in any way."

"Who was that?" Richard had bristled at the mention of a threat to his cousin.

"I don't think it matters, it was more her response where she denied he had bothered her, or even upset her in the least. While she said this mainly because the gentleman is known to have roughed up those that have previously upset her, and she did not want Mr Darcy to get hurt, I still think this shows that Elizabeth is not indifferent to him."

"Well my Grandmother does say that love and hate are just different sides to the same coin, and it is indifference that is the opposite of passion, not hate."

"I've not heard that, but that is interesting if it is true, Lizzie is certainly not indifferent to Mr Darcy, not in the slightest."

"But what can we do about it?"

"Do? I don't know if there is anything we can do. Maybe find out a bit more about what has caused her dislike of him? She thinks he's immoral and uncaring. I know he does care… he was ever so kind and patient with me before I got used to him. Oh that was when I accidentally overheard him defend me against some off-colour comments you made when we first were acquainted."

"I am sorry. I didn't mean it." Richard said contritely.

Charlotte felt secretly pleased that Richard felt embarrassed now about those comments, even if he could not remember what they were, as she knew he certainly wasn't embarrassed at the time he uttered them.

"That's alright Richard, I'm magnanimous enough to accept your apology... this time."

"I am most honoured by your accepting my humble apology, and hope never to offend in this manner again…" Richard then ruined it slightly by adding, "Whatever it was I said."

Charlotte was prepared to let him off the hook, so replied. "Actually it was a backhanded compliment, but not one that a gentleman should utter, even in exclusively male company. But happy to excuse an old soldier, who knows no better."

"Who are you calling old! I'm not yet 33." Richard put on the cutest pout and indignant face, Charlotte just had to laugh, which set him off as well.

When they both had recovered, it was Richard that got back to the business at hand. "So do you have any ideas? Did Elizabeth give you any hints about what drives her antipathy in what she told you? I only know that she dislikes, pretty much all, gentlemen, although what she related about my brother's actions and then some of what she's had to put up with here in Ramsgate, I doubt she has met anything other than bad examples. "

"Elizabeth thinks Mr Darcy is no better, preying on lower class women just as those others did."

"What! Never!"

"She says she had proof of him keeping a mistress and even availing himself of a… you know… one of those women… in an inn when he took her to London. She enjoyed taking the opportunity to tell him he'd been found out when she refused his offer."

"What, Darcy with a mistress? I'd love to know what she thinks is proof, as it has to be a complete faradiddle, whatever she thinks. Darcy would no sooner have a mistress than I'd defect to the French. As for the inn, Wilkins is here in Ramsgate, he'd been the coachman on that trip, so I'll just ask him. He might know if anyone does. If he doesn't, I'll write to Darcy myself."

"Oh dear, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"Yes you should've. Anyway you've got me intrigued, I'd love to know under what circumstances Darcy would give the appearance of availing himself of that sort of woman. Once we know what happened we can refute these misconceptions. I know, whatever she thinks she knows, that it's untrue. We just need to find the right time to bring up the new information in conversation."

"But how can we do that. It's not something to bring up in polite company."

"Leave that to me. Your job is to talk to Elizabeth, try to find out as much you can about why she dislikes Mr Darcy. Some of it will be valid reasons. It is true that at times Darcy was a bit of an ars… um… let's just say he was less than polite towards Elizabeth. I think he was attracted to her from the very start, but didn't want to be, so was rude – well as rude as a gentleman like Mr Darcy can be – to push her away. As a way of removing himself from the source of what he rationally thought was unwanted temptation."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I've had plenty of time to think lying here. I noticed his attraction for her even before he was consciously aware of it. But I didn't expect him to propose so soon, he said he was going to wait until Georgie got married not to spoil her chances with his own imprudent marriage. But he must have talked to Georgie, as I suggested, and she was more than prepared to accept whatever happened afterwards to see him happy with whatever choice he made."

"I'm not sure if he did. Elizabeth said when he proposed, he demanded she pretend to be Spanish and had already found some childless couple to raise Amy-Jane, apparently everything was arranged already to wipe Elizabeth's past clean. She didn't take that well. She was still incensed when she related what he said to me, she would have been even angrier at the time."

"Oh dear. I doubt there is anything we can say to fix that. But what else did she say about him? That could give us some clue as to other things your friend believes about my cousin."

"I'm not sure I should relate it all, it's not really mine to say."

"Come now, do you want to help your friend or not. We both only really know a bit over half of the story each, I'll start by telling you all I know and you then can fill in the rest. How about it?"

"Are you sure? It is for the best isn't it?"

"Of course. Elizabeth will thank you for it." Charlotte thought she heard him mutter 'eventually' to conclude, but chose, in the end, to ignore it, as it did seem to be the best for Lizzie.

"Alright, but what about if Sergeant O'Connor comes back? I expected him back before now already."

"That could be a problem, he's just about stayed away as long as propriety would allow, there is only so long you can pretend to be fetching tea." Turning to face the door directly Richard then yelled "Sergeant!"

At that came the sounds of rapidly approaching feet before O'Connor, pushing the door fully open with his foot, walked in carrying a tea tray. As he placed it on the side table he commented, "Here you are sir. Took some time to get the tea ready, it was as I feared, and the water was not hot."

"Thank you Sergeant, but I've decided that it's time I take a first short walk outside. It is lovely weather."

Charlotte noticed the sergeant had rather dubiously look on his face when he replied. "You have sir? Sorry sir, of course you have. I'll just prepare your coat. Oh… and a scarf and hat, maybe an umbrella as well."

With that the sergeant assisted Richard into his coat and they both helped Richard go downstairs. Once Charlotte was certain that Amy-Jane was still happy with Georgiana, Charlotte also dressed warmly and the three proceeded outside. They followed as Richard, gingerly but with obvious relish, walked slowly the short distance down the promenade, to where the stone seawall formed a parapet, and leant up against it, looking out over the ocean. Charlotte took her cue from him and stood alongside, although looking back towards the house to face away from the wind. She was far enough away to be all that was proper, but that was further than she really wanted to be. She noticed that O'Connor took up a place close enough to maintain propriety without being able to hear what they said, particularly with the wind and crashing waves.

"What a day! This weather is delightful." Richard commented as soon as they were settled.

"How can you say that? With this strong south westerly blowing the salt spray over us, it might as well be raining. And it might just do that as well." That last bit was said as Charlotte looked up at the grey sky.

"Ah but you've not spent the last three months trapped inside. If it was warm and calm, how could I even tell if I'd left the house? This is weather! Real, unfettered weather! You don't get this inside!"

Charlotte had to laugh. This was one of the things she most admired about Richard, he was always able to find the silver lining in every situation. What she would give for even a small amount of that optimism. "Trust you to be the only one enjoying the English winter. Look around you. Everyone else is hurrying to find shelter."

"Ah, but that is part of the charm. It is – English – weather. I'd not be anywhere as cheerful if this were Portugal, even though it'd be warmer there. Well most of the time anyway."

"I'd love to go somewhere else. You know Ramsgate is as far from home I've ever been."

"I suppose you could come to Portugal… No, it would not be suitable. It'd be too hard on you, with the conditions the war forces on the women as well. But, maybe later…"

Charlotte did wonder what Richard could possibly mean by that, could it mean what she thought it might? No, of course not. She was being a silly goose. Best to squash any thoughts along that line. It was clearly impossible, with the difference in situation. To fill the silence, and deflect her thoughts, Charlotte realised this was an opportunity to continue the discussion they had started inside. Maybe that was why Richard chose to do it.

"Richard? Do you want to continue our discussion from before?"

"Of course, that's why I bought you out here. I know it is a bit cold, regardless of what I said about enjoying it. You don't mind too much, do you?"

So, yes it was his Idea all along. How clever of him. "Of course not, Richard, I don't mind, truly I don't. Please carry on, so what do you know…"

So as their faces slowly reddened, their nose and ears grew numb from the cold wind and Charlotte's carefully prepared hair unravelled and blew around her face, they talked. And talk they did. After an hour outside it was just too cold and the rain looked closer so they adjourned inside to a much cosier parlour. It was a matter of moments to convince Georgiana to move to the music room, where she proceeded to provide masking noises in the form of exquisitely played Mozart, Bach and Beethoven. Charlotte noticed O'Connor left to do whatever it was that he did. She also arranged for the youngest of the Darcy maids to help by amusing Amy-Jane, and their conversation resumed.

Surprisingly, given how long and free flowing this conversation became, it actually started a little tentatively, as it was not themselves they were talking about, and initially both felt self-conscious about sharing these confidences. But soon they were sharing everything they thought relevant, given their need to help Elizabeth see the truth about Mr Darcy, as that was to both of their benefit. Even the pause while they returned home, didn't interrupt the flow, although they changed to more public topics until they were assured of the privacy they needed.

Richard initially started it off, by mentioning some of the things Darcy had said to him when he had first arrived in Ramsgate to illustrate what Darcy may have said in Elizabeth's presence. He related the basis of the conversations her remembered hearing Darcy and Elizabeth having while he was very ill, too ill to contribute, but as he said, he remembered a great deal more than he thought they realised.

At this point he remembered how Elizabeth managed to surprise Darcy with her formidable chess playing ability and related the banter around their first few games, to Charlotte's amusement. When asked direct, Charlotte had to admit that Lizzie had tried to teach her the game but she never managed to learn more than the rudiments of how the pieces moved, and was a worse player than even Jane, who did not like taking other player's pieces without losing one of her own as it would not fair for her to have more than they did. Poor Lizzie despaired of both of them, which left her with only her father to play against. Richard promised to teach her, as he was certain Elizabeth could beat him easily, and he'd be a fairer opponent, but Charlotte felt a bit self-conscious at this stage and so declined.

Charlotte replied with some stories of Elizabeth as a precocious child or a young lady, and how she was treated more like a boy than a girl by her father, particularly once it came clear that five girls were all the children her parents were going to be able to have. Charlotte also let Richard know how Lizzie's mother, while meaning well, could be very silly and often acted in ways that ended up achieving the direct opposite of what she intended, the incident on how Elizabeth's pregnancy was made public knowledge the most egregious example of this.

Richard then covered a bit of Darcy's history, how his cousin was pursued relentlessly, even by his sister – although on her friend, Miss Trent's behalf, not for herself – Lady Sophie was holding out for a peer, one at least as highly ranked as her father, and mocked he older sister Lady Victoria for settling for a Baroness, and a Scottish one at that. Where Richard was pleased his elder sister had found real happiness with her husband and now new baby, and wondered if he would be so lucky with his partner in life.

This did cause an awkward pause. Charlotte was not sure what she could say in response. Thankfully Richard, who appeared to sense her own unease, carried on by confessing of his opposition to Darcy's machinations to prevent Mrs Younge's hanging, and went as far as telling her of his role in Wickham's death, and the words Darcy and he had traded as a result. Charlotte was shocked at this, as she could not consider ordering anyone's death, but she also agreed with Darcy, she hadn't faced what Richard had in his time at war against Napoleon.

He also told of how he noticed Darcy's attraction to Elizabeth and attempted to help by elaborating, and he had to confess, rather exaggerating Darcy's assistance to a friend who was having romantic troubles of his own. Charlotte asked if the friend's name was Mr Charles Bingley, which Richard confirmed was the case. In a slightly incoherent jumble, both sides of the story were told, with very little common ground between. Richard had further information, from letters Darcy had written him, giving more detail, but this only added to the confusion rather than clear anything up. Charlotte felt for Jane, as it seemed a conspiracy of fate if anything acted to keep them apart – although Charlotte was concerned about what Richard reported Mr Bingley's sister Caroline had said about Jane – both Charles and Jane had clearly had loved the other, without the other being that aware of it, and from later reports each had received after the separation, continued to love each other, which only compounded both Charles' and Jane's current heartache.

Charlotte did wonder, in being told of Charles' inability to know of Jane's own regard for him, whether Jane's own serenity and calm nature, combined with both sister's distrust of wealthy men, acted against Jane in this situation. She knew, as well as anyone could that a lady, needed to be willing to demonstrate how they felt or even needed to show more regard than they may have felt at the time, otherwise they did risk their suitor being so doubtful of a positive reception that he would not continue his suit, or be ready to believe the existence of another person's place in their own heart.

As the conversation meandered somewhat and petered out at the end, Charlotte was very pleased to have this insight to Richard, realising he'd told her things he'd not said to anyone else, except maybe Mr Darcy or O'Connor. That benefit aside, Charlotte though it really didn't get them too much closer to working out how to resolve Elizabeth's poor opinion of Mr Darcy, and said so. Thankfully Richard had a much less pessimistic view, and said that there were plenty of things for both of them to talk to Elizabeth about, and her job was to remind Elizabeth about the conversations she had with his cousin while he was sick, and he'd deal with the rest, as it would be better coming closer to the source, as it were.

They both lapsed into silence, happy to listen to Georgiana's playing, just sitting in a companionable silence.

* * *

><p>Charlotte led a skipping Amy-Jane through the front door, happy that the rain, which had threatened all day still had not arrived, but it could not be that far away.<p>

"Hello? We're home."

Mrs Carter stuck her head around the kitchen door, "Ah, so you two are home now. Amy-Jane, come here, I'll get you warm milk and maybe a biscuit."

"Yay! Thank you, Granny Carter." And while still getting her outerwear off, tried to head off in that direction.

"Hey, young lady wait until I get your coat off… There, that's better. Off you go." Charlotte partly watched Amy-Jane race off while looking around for her mother, before asking, "Mrs Carter, is Elizabeth home?"

"No dear. She said needed to go out… Go into to the kitchen dear, I'll be right there… Don't worry, she said she'd be back well before dark. I don't think she'll be long… Yes, yes, young lady, I'll be right there, just sit up at the table… Go into the parlour if you like Miss Lucas. I'll bring you a cup of tea once I deal with this little miss first."

For want of anything else to do, Charlotte took off her own coat and hat and followed Mrs Carter's instructions and went into the parlour. It was a little chilly, but after adding a little coal and prodding the fire back into life the small room warmed fairly quickly. Charlotte picked up the pinafore she'd been letting down earlier this morning, and in her small even stitches, set to work while keeping one ear out for the sound of Lizzie's return.

[line]

"Oh here you are Lizzie, we've all been waiting for you." Charlotte rose and put down the second dress, having finished sewing the first earlier, as Elizabeth entered the room, still unbundling herself from her cloak and scarf.

"I'm sorry, I was out a little longer than…."

By mid-sentence Charlotte had reached out and clasped Elizabeth's hands and was shocked to feel how cold they were. "Lizzie! My lord, your hands are like blocks of ice! How long have you been away? Mrs Carter didn't say."

"I needed to think, so I went out soon after you left."

"Lizzie you're shivering. You've been out too long."

"I… I was thinking… I needed to think…"

"Looks more like you didn't think, you silly thing. Mrs Carter! Please bring in a blanket. Oh, and a towel or two."

"I don't need you to fuss… I'll be alright." Charlotte noticed Elizabeth was starting to head out of the warm parlour, to who knows where, possibly upstairs to change?

"No you don't Lizzie. You will stay here." Charlotte guided her to the chair closest to the fire and then added more coal and stoked it to try to heat the room some more.

"What is it dear? I've bought the blan… Oh dear, what have you been doing Elizabeth?" Mrs Carter added her voice to admonishing Elizabeth, as she wrapped the blanket around her charge and generally fussed about.

Elizabeth replied, to both of them really, "I… I was… it wasn't that bad until the drizzle started. I came back… straight back then."

Charlotte noticed that it was not just her cloak that was wet, but everything from the way her skirts clung to her legs. Elizabeth was far wetter than she should be from just rushing home through drizzle.

"Lizzie, you're soaked through! You need a complete change. No, don't get up, I'll go get them for you. You stay right here. I won't be long."

Charlotte wondered where Elizabeth had been to have got that wet, but getting her out of her wet clothes was far more important than satisfying her curiosity, that could come later. But, thought Charlotte, as she rushed up the stairs, there will be an accounting, as in this weather, Elizabeth's actions today were reckless in the extreme, she'd be lucky not to come down with a cold or worse from them.

Charlotte returned with a complete set of dry undergarments, a winter nighty and bed socks. Over protests from her friend about changing in the parlour, that continued even after they double check the drawn curtains excluded any possibility of an outsider looking in, Elizabeth now sat, after being stripped, towelled dry and changed into her dry clothes while Charlotte brushed out her hair, to assist in drying it as well while Mrs Carter had gone to prepare some extra sweet tea.

"There Lizzie, is that not better? But stop fidgeting."

"I can't, my feet have the most awful pins and needles."

"But, it's not that, are you are shivering?"

"A little."

Now that Charlotte was aware of it, it didn't seem that minor. "Lizzie hold your hands out." Charlotte watched as Elizabeth pulled her hands from being tucked between her legs and held them out in front her, where they shook vigorously, so in an incredulous tone asked, "Just a little Lizzie?"

"Well, maybe more than a little, but I'll be fine, stop fussing."

"I fuss all I like, you need it. Are you warm on your front? If you are turn around, it'll help dry your hair, which is still very wet."

"Alright." As Elizabeth shifted position she then asked, "Where's Amy-Jane?"

"Next door. Playing with Billy. Don't worry, she'll be home soon."

"Can you go… no don't bother. As you say she'll be home soon."

Charlotte noticed how Elizabeth's shoulders slumped some once she gave up on her request to see her daughter, so replied, "I can go get her now if you like. It's not a problem."

"If you will." That seemed to perk her friend up,

"Sure. I'll go very soon, I just have to finish brushing this last bit."

"Thank you Charlotte, you're a good friend."

"So are you. There finished. Ah… here's Mrs Carter with your tea, drink up. I'll be next door. Won't be long."

Elizabeth could not stop shivering, even when she started complaining the parlour was becoming too hot. Even still, Elizabeth appeared very pleased to see Amy-Jane, hugging her fiercely on her lap, even while drinking a second cup of tea, which her daughter's position made awkward.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately Charlotte's prediction that Elizabeth could succumb to a cold or worse came true, as she woke the following day with a fever, cough and sore throat. It did not help that Mrs Carter seemed to have caught the same malady and Charlotte was left with two patients and a young girl to cope with. While Amy Jane was no real problem, content most of the time to play in the parlour with her doll or sit writing out letters or numbers while Charlotte went up and down stairs, usually to do something for Mrs Carter who was, to put it mildly, a demanding patient. Charlotte did wonder if caring for Mrs Carter in the past was how Elizabeth had learnt her nursing skills. Thus Charlotte was left feeling frazzled herself by the end of the day, retiring soon after putting Amy-Jane to bed herself.<p>

When Charlotte woke, she was concerned as overnight Elizabeth's fever had grown worse, her cough now had a harsh barking tone and she had lost her voice completely. Also Mrs Carter had not gotten better, but unlike Elizabeth, was thankfully no worse, although her demands did not let up, they were lessened as she must have realised that while she was not feeling that well, Elizabeth was much sicker, and also getting worse, so needed a great deal more of Charlotte's time. So Charlotte stayed upstairs, mostly to help Elizabeth while Amy-Jane played with her doll, this time in Elizabeth's room, as Charlotte did not want to leave her main patient, although the young girl was encouraged to stay as far from the sick bed as was practical. It was also a measure of economy, as Charlotte had to maintain fires in both bedrooms, and saw little point, after lugging fresh scuttles of coal upstairs, any point of having to do so for the parlour, that would get little use today also.

Conversation with Elizabeth could only be one sided, and there was little that Charlotte could think of to talk about that would allow Elizabeth to reply with only a nod or the shake of a head. This Charlotte found very frustrating, as she really wanted to know what had so captured Elizabeth's thoughts that she had become soaked through. But it was not something that Charlotte could think to ask in the form of twenty questions, so after reading a letter from Maria, which was unsatisfactorily short, Charlotte continued reading aloud the first volume of the new novel Jane had sent Elizabeth recently, although spending about an hour catching up to where Elizabeth had got to first. Jane had bought all three volumes without knowing what they were like because of the novelty that Sense and Sensibility had been written by a lady author who, rumour had it, was named Jane as well. The letter Jane wrote to accompany these first two volumes raved about how good it was, assured them that they would love it as she had, and promised the third and last volume once she had finished it herself.

Charlotte had got only a few chapters into the second volume by the time the light, which was poor to start with as the dark clouds and drizzle had persisted since Elizabeth was caught out in it, and reading by the weak candle light was not possible given how tired Charlotte had become with all this running around. Typical blasted English weather, thought Charlotte, as she gave up on the reading, although Richard would be happy! What was most concerning was Elizabeth was very reluctant to eat or drink anything as her throat was so sore and had to be browbeaten to have a little chicken soup and was even reluctant to drink the herbal infusions, even when prepared with copious quantities of honey to disguise the taste. It was only really the throat tonic that Elizabeth had told Charlotte where to find in the pantry that gave her any relief and allowed her to take anything else.

A still weary Charlotte woke the next day, hoping that the night would see improvement in at least one of her patients, but it was not to be. She felt rather guilty about thinking Mrs Carter could have been malingering, as she had also lost her voice over night, and was now presenting all the same symptoms as Elizabeth had a day ago. Elizabeth's fever had not abated at all, and her friend was listless and seemed lack the ability to concentrate for any length of time. Thus Charlotte gave up reading the second volume of Sense and Sensibility, even though she wanted to continue, as it was obvious that Elizabeth was not able to follow the story to any great extent.

By midday, Amy-Jane, who had been very good up to this point, started playing up, being bored and restless herself. It did not help that the weather was still poor and Amy-Jane couldn't be allowed out to play in the small yard behind Mrs Carter's house, to give her a change of scene. In the end Charlotte asked Mrs Hughes from next door if she could look after Amy-Jane for the rest of the day. Thankfully Mrs Hughes was very happy to have Amy-Jane that afternoon, given that Billy was also bored from this forced confinement. Mrs Hughes offered to take care of Amy-Jane for as long as Charlotte had two patients, which a very grateful Charlotte accepted, and so they both returned to collect sufficient clothes, her doll and a few toys before Charlotte left Amy-Jane with her neighbour.

* * *

><p>A day later, Charlotte stood in the kitchen with a worried look on her face, staring at the near empty throat tonic bottle. Had they used up almost all of it already? She thought it was nearly full only a few days ago, when Elizabeth, voice hoarse but still present, told her where it was and how much to dose each time. Picking it up and examining it, she could not see a label, or any writing on it to know where to get replacement tonic from. Only one thing to do, so gathering up the near empty bottle she trudged upstairs again. As she entered, her friend sat up and tried to say something, but all that came out was a harsh hissing sound.<p>

"Lizzie, no don't try to speak, just nod…"

nod

"Good. Do you make this tonic yourself?" Charlotte held up the tonic bottle.

shake

"Do you buy it from Mr Brown's Apothecary?"

nod Charlotte noticed that Elizabeth was pointing to herself at the same time.

"Good. Um… Ah, so he will know what to make up if I ask for Elizabeth Smith's throat tonic."

nod nod Elizabeth gave her week smile.

"The tin of herbal infusion is getting down as well. Does he make that as well?"

shake Again Elizabeth pointed to herself.

"Um… So you make it yourself?"

nod

"Here I'll get you some paper and a pencil, write the ingredients down for me"

Elizabeth shook her head and pointed over to the other side of the room.

"The chest?", shake, "The bookcase?" nod "I'll move my hand around. Wave when I'm at the right spot." nod Charlotte proceeded to move her hand over the books.

"Right. Here. No left. Back a bit. This one? Yes?... Good, got it." Her hand was at a leather bound book, one that you buy blank and then write your own notes in. Charlotte took the book over to Elizabeth, who opened it, first to the recipe for the herbal infusion and marked it, then turned to the another page that had the throat tonic on it. Elizabeth marked that also and then handed it back to her. After doing so, she pointed to the book and then made a rounded motion with both hands.

"What?"

Elizabeth shook her head then held up three fingers and deliberately motioned a tug of her ear.

"What is it? Oh charades! Yes... Three words... Second word. Sounds like... Eat. No. Coughing, no, the thing you take, tablet? no, pill! Yes!... You want a pill? ... No ... Oh, that right sounds like pill... What was it again? Oh hill! I'm right, yes! ... So something hill. Right, first word. Little word. Finger. Ring finger. No, wedding ring. Ring! no. Oh... can't think... Ah yes, Mrs! So Mrs Hill? Yes? Yes! Third word.. You are writing... Ah, these are Mrs Hill's recipes."

Charlotte felt very clever, she was not usually that good at games, but this was fun.

"You know Lizzie, can I copy these out later? My mother would be so jealous that I got Mrs Hill's recipes, she's considered the best cook in Meryton, and her tonics are sort after by everyone, even though she's still at Longbourn. Stuck by your parents when even Hannah left. Only Mrs Hill and her daughter Claire are left. Not there is still Mr Denisham in the gardens, but he's been there longer than even your father, so he probably thinks the gardens are his. But, you should see Longbourn now, it is so sad the way they've let it all run down."

Seeing Elizabeth's expression fall as she said this, Charlotte could have kicked herself. This was the last thing that Lizzie needed, a reminder of everything she'd lost, and all that she was banished from, while she was so dreadfully ill.

"I am so sorry, Lizzie. Please forgive me."

Elizabeth gave her a weak smile and held her arms out, and the pair of them hugged. What a generous friend she was thought Charlotte, here she is sick as the devil and comforting me.

"Sorry again Lizzie. Well, I best be off, before the rain returns. See you soon."

* * *

><p>The following day saw no improvement with Elizabeth, and Mrs Carter equally as sick. Even the outlook was worse as the rain had returned, although this time it came with cold northerly winds. Charlotte has succumbed to temptation and was reading the second part of Sense and Sensibility silently when she heard what could have been a knock at the door. Yelling "hello" down the stairs had no response so she went back to her reading, only to hear the knocking again. Another yell did not yield any more response than the first time, but just in case, Charlotte got up and looked out the window. She could not see anyone at the front door, so put the whole thing down to her imagination, and went back to her reading.<p>

So it was to her considerable surprise when, after going down to the kitchen to make some tea over an hour later, that she heard the knocking again, although much clearer, as it was from the back door that led in to the kitchen. On opening it, there stood Sergeant O'Connor!

"Sergeant! What are you doing here? Please come in."

"Thank ye, Miss Lucas. The Colonel sent me 'round."

"You've not been here long have you?" Charlotte suddenly realised, that it was very likely him that had knocked a good hour ago or more earlier. She examined him carefully, but thankfully he did not seem to be all that discomforted, although with the Sergeant it was hard to tell.

"No problem Miss. Weren' here long t'all." Charlotte hoped he was telling the truth, rather than believed it. But if he didn't seem to mind, what could she do?

"Please, sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"No need Miss. The Colonel sent me to find out if you need anything. He's worried you've not been round for several days."

"Oh that's very nice of him. Give him our apologies, but it's just that I've been a bit busy."

"Don't tell him I told you, but I think he's worried he's done anything to offend you. I could tell he was growing more and more concerned each day he expected you but you didn't show."

"No, it's not that at all. Unfortunately Elizabeth and Mrs Carter have come down with nasty sore throats and I've been looking after them. Are you sure you don't want tea? I'm making a pot anyway."

"No Miss. Are you sure you don't need nothing?"

"No we are fine. Their fever should break soon, tell the Colonel I'll be fine. Can I least tempt you with a biscuit?"

"No Miss, I've got to get back. Hope Elizabeth and t'other lady is better soon." With that Sergeant O'Connor got up and started Hope buttoning his coat. "Goodbye Miss."

"Goodbye Sergeant. Please tell the Colonel we will be able to visit before long, and assure him our absence was nothing he has said."

"Aye, Miss, I will. Bye."

"Goodbye Sergeant."

Charlotte sat down with a plop, after he exited out the back door and closed it behind him, head in a whirl. Richard was worried about them? Enough to send O'Connor, to either wait in the rain, or return again and again until he found them at home. Gosh, that wasn't something she'd expected. Charlotte sat there thinking, while drinking the tea she had made and eating a few of the biscuits she'd offered the Sergeant, before heading back upstairs. First checking on Mrs Carter who, there was no surprise in this, did need something. After getting Mrs Carter another bed shawl, a process that took a lot of pointing and gesturing, given Mrs Carter voice had still not returned, Charlotte returned to her reading while keeping Elizabeth company.

So, when later Charlotte thought she might have heard a knock, she was quick to get up and check out the front door, via the window, and then the same to the kitchen door by going into the bedroom she was been staying in and looking out over the back yard as well. This time there was no one there, so must have been a figment of her imagination. It was the same the second and third time. When she heard knocking a fourth time, Charlotte was about to ignore it, but it was a bit louder than the others, so she made the effort, and was very glad she did. Out the window of her bedroom she saw a large umbrella. As she raced down the stairs, Charlotte wondered who this could be? Was it Mrs Hughes from next door? Could Amy-Jane be coming down with the sore throat as well? Slowing to a more dignified walk just before entering the kitchen, Charlotte opened the back door.

It was Agnes, a large robust, no-nonsense female in service with the Darcy's that Charlotte knew had been sent by Mr Darcy from Darcy House in London to assist with Richard's care, but what was she doing here? Well, in Agnes's forthright manner, that continuous nature prevented interruption, Charlotte was about to find out.

"Miss Lucas, yes of course it is you, silly of me to ask, still, you know it is polite to do so. What are you standing there like a gorm for Ned? Come in and drop the baskets on the table. Don't worry Miss Lucas, he won't be staying. Not don't leave, Ned, not until I tell you to. So as I was saying, I have been sent here to help out. Don't just stand there Ned, unpack the other basket! Honestly, Miss Lucas, that lad hasn't the brains of a hedgehog, have to watch him all the time you do, thankfully he won't be staying. Ned, careful, don't drop that! All the footmen here are not a patch on those back in London, well maybe not Jack, he's alright I guess, but he was out when the Colonel summoned me to the library." This monologue was accompanied by Agnes, and later helped by Ned, unpacking a range of newly bought food, including jars of preserves, fresh bread and eggs from the two baskets.

"Did you know the Colonel's going up and down the stairs mostly by himself now? Of course you do, you were there weren't you, silly me I forgot, anyway, there I was in the library. 'Agnes' said he, knows all our names, like Mr Darcy he is, always treats you like you were someone, not like others I could tell you about, but that's not important now… 'Agnes' he says, 'I need a favour', a favour I thought to myself, wonder what this is about, but I says 'of course sir, no problem, what is it sir?' so then he says 'My Sergeant has just found out that Miss Lucas is having to care for Elizabeth and Mrs Carter by herself as they both are very ill. I think it would be good if you could be willing to go and assist with their care, what do you think?', I have to say I was a little surprised at this question, but this is the Colonel, and he's always been good at asking not demanding things, so I replies 'of course sir, if you can spare me', as I knows I am supposed to be caring for him you see, but I am happy to be of help here, if you need it, but of course you do, a lady like you looking after two patients? that's not right, that is, anyway Mary is needed to look after Georgiana and Emma would drive you up the wall within hours, can that girl talk. Talk the hind leg off a donkey she can, and you don't want… out that down Ned, it's not yours to touch… and you don't want someone like that caring for those that are sick."

At this point both baskets were empty and the contents covered the kitchen table. Agnes was now walking around the kitchen, looking into jars and bins, peering at the larder, while the monologue continued at its uninterruptable pace, although interspersed with the occasional 'right', 'oh dear' or 'must remember that' as she found something or another that did not satisfy her.

"As the Colonel really don't need all of us now, he says, 'maybe earlier, but not now. So you are happy to help?' so I say, "of course I am sir", then he says, 'do you know where to go? If not ask Sergeant O'Connor, he can show you how to get there.', so I say, 'thanks sir, I will' then I say, 'if that is all sir, I'll be off now' and he says, 'wait a moment Agnes. Do you think that Miss Lucas has been able to go shopping every day?', I thought about it, and couldn't really say, so I said so to him, "Colonel, sir," I said, 'I am not sure, maybe, but it would not be a bad thing to take a few preserves in a basket, just in case, mind', to which he replied, 'no Agnes, we can do more than that', and he wandered over to his desk and pulled out his wallet, then handing me nearly a dozen half crowns, can you believe it, that's nearly a full pound, and says 'here Agnes, go get what you need' and I had to object, who needs a pound to buy a few groceries? so I says 'but, sir, this is way too much, here have these back, I could have all the bakery and half the chandler with this lot' and tried to hand back all but a couple of coins. But would he take them? No he wouldn't. The Colonel can be as stubborn as that Sergeant of his, so there I was with too much money, so I says, 'I'll bring back the extra when I'm done' and he says, 'no you won't Agnes, if there is any left over'… any left over? there'd be almost all of it left over, 'if there is any left over, maybe buy a few nice things for the little girl, and if there is spare something to spoil the adults as well', he says, so I need to know, does the little girl like dolls? No, no need to answer that, of course she does, so once I'm done here… no, actually I am done… I know what else to get now. So don't worry yourself, me and Ned will be back soon, sit and have a cup of tea, or go back up to your patients, I'll let myself in. First thing will be some chicken soup, they are wanting soup aren't they? Of course they are, silly me… Well, after the soup I'll make you a hot dinner, you've probably been having soup too, no time to make yourself a prober dinner I am sure. Can't have you wasting away to nothing, now, can we. The Colonel won't like that one bit he won't. So sit here, I won't be long… Ned what are you doing lounging in here for, grab those baskets, hurry now… Oi, Ned, watch what you're doing! You nearly knocked those eggs on the floor. Out you go. What I put up with, no one…"

Charlotte watched as Agnes proceeded to usher Ned out the door, continuing to berate the poor footman, giving him no more chance to get a word in edgewise as she had. She thought that maybe she should have made some input into that entirely one-sided conversation, but Agnes kept answering all her own questions without giving her a chance to answer, and it was impolite to interrupt. It was only once Agnes and Ned had left to go get more food, which there did seem to be little need given what was already on the table, did she have a chance to even understand the whole of what had been imparted by Agnes. Which included, to Charlotte's consternation, Agnes would be back and be help her for as long as Elizabeth and Mrs Carter were ill. Charlotte wondered whether she'd end up in bed herself out of preservation for her sanity.

In the end the reality of Agnes helping was far less onerous than Charlotte had imagined. For whatever reason, possibly because she used up all her allocation of words in their very first meeting, Agnes was almost taciturn thereafter. And Agnes's help turned out to be a real godsend. Where Charlotte found had taken her a goodly number of frustrating minutes to determine what Mrs Carter wanted, Agnes seemed to instinctive know from a few hisses and the occasional gesture, getting what Mrs Carter needed in what seemed like only seconds.

Agnes also took over all food preparation, leaving only the dosing of medicines and herbal infusions to Charlotte. In this way Charlotte had her first properly cooked meal in days, something that she didn't even realised she needed, as properly fed, she had more energy to cope with each new day. But that was not all that Agnes helped with, she was also much better at ensuring that both patients took their medicine, and drank or ate sufficiently, even though at time it was like they had let a tyrant into the house. Charlotte realised she had in some ways been too kind, allowing either Elizabeth or Mrs Carter to refuse when their throats were too sore, where Agnes forced them to take it, and eat the entire bowl of soup, which meant they started to show a little improvement soon after her arrival.

* * *

><p>Some days later Charlotte sat in the parlour, for what seemed like the first time for ages, finally given a chance to rest after over a week of constant running to and fro. Elizabeth's fever had finally broken early yesterday, and with a further day in bed she was now up and about, if still shaky from a lack of energy bought about by her fever-enforced lack of sustenance. Agnes had gone back to Richard's residence. Charlotte wondered if she could have coped without Agnes's help, and, regardless of how reluctant at first, now she was ever so grateful for it. Agnes on the other hand refused to accept any praise, saying she was only doing the job she'd been sent to do, and if any praise was due, it would have to be for Colonel Fitzwilliam, as it was his decision that sent her here.<p>

Amy-Jane was still at the Hughes', although Elizabeth had wanted her home, Charlotte argued successfully that she should give herself a day to better recover before her daughter returned home, Mrs Hughes was happy to care for her as long as necessary, and Mrs Carter, who had recovered the night before Elizabeth had, was still in no state to assist either. Her new doll, as result of Richard's generosity, bought only yesterday with the remaining money, sat in the cradle Agnes was able to buy also. That will be a nice surprise for Amy-Jane when she gets home. Elizabeth was a little annoyed that Georgiana and now Richard had bought expensive dolls for her daughter, where she had only been able to afford a rag doll, and wanted to return it or give it away, but Charlotte was successful in convincing her that that would be cutting off her nose to spite her face and, given that Richard knew he was an uncle, he was allowed to buy gifts like this. No one needed to know where it had come from, and anyone noisy enough to enquire could be told that it had come from her.

Having sent Elizabeth to bed after happily watching her eat a breakfast that would normally feed two, Charlotte sat finishing the last of a set of matching handkerchiefs with the initials 'RJF'. As she did so, Charlotte's thoughts turned to the gentleman for whom these were intended. Did it mean what she thought it just might mean when Richard said, gosh it was more than a week ago now, doesn't time fly when you are busy, yes, when he said he'd take her to Portugal, but just not now. She knew it was silly to hope, but it was hard not to, particularly after he'd noticed her absence and thoughtfully sent Sergeant O'Connor to ask after her. And then to arrange for Agnes to help as well, he must have interrogated O'Connor regarding how she was coping, how else would he have known? That must show a level of concern for her welfare above and beyond what a gentleman would normally show, wouldn't it? The embroidery abandoned for the moment, Charlotte lost herself in the fantasy of Richard bending on one knee, asking for her hand, going off to see her parents, showing him off to all those in Meryton that thought her too plain, to mousey to snare anyone, and her she was with the son of an Earl, no less. How proud would she be then, her parents also, as Charlotte knew even her mother had given up on her chances long ago, focussing on Maria completely.

Then she'd get to have her perfect wedding, one that she'd dreamed of ever since she saw how beautiful Francis Gardener looked when she married Mr Bennet when she was six years old. It was like Mrs Bennet was a fairy princess, in her saffron coloured brocaded silk gown, all the huge piles of lace purest white, the carriage with its pair of proud horses, with all the flowers, silk ribbons and other decorations. How she dreamed of the day when this could be hers. That is not forgetting the dreams she had of afterwards, of setting up a house of her own, it only had to be a small cottage a little out of town, which town didn't matter, but the house, and a garden, that was hers. Then she could make it a haven of domestic felicity for her husband and children. Children. She wanted children, desperately. Maybe not desperately enough to go down Elizabeth's path deliberately, but it was funny how the temptation was there. You know, maybe, if she could snare a husband out of it...

Charlotte's thought returned again to Richard's comment about going to Portugal… What should she make of that? Could that mean he was consider taking her she go with him when he returned to his regiment? And that could only mean... marriage... couldn't it? He could be a bit... earthy... she'd overheard a few comments that were only the sort of thing men talked to each other, but never in polite company, but that didn't mean he'd ever consider the other type of offer. No. Not at all. Charlotte though she knew him well enough to know that he was not that kind of gentleman, and anyway, they never make those sorts of offers to plain spinsters like herself. She knew officers were allowed to take their actual wives with them, and the wife of a Colonel would have some status where ever they were stationed. Actually, she thought maybe she'd feel less out of place in that case, than having to brave the ton and all the large men in it. It was if somehow knowing he husband would be their commanding officer made all those imposing men, who would be subordinates to Richard, less scary. And it wouldn't be so bad. The war against Boney could not last forever, could it? And if, the dreaded if of any soldier's wife, she became a widow, that was immanently more respectable than being a spinster, and she'd had the joy of the wedding and then of being married for whatever length of time that God had allotted her…

The clatter of the embroidery frame as it fell off her knee bought her back to reality…

"Stop being so bacon-brained Charlotte," she said quietly to no one but herself, as her shoulders slumped and she sighed before returning to embroidering the vines surrounding his initials, "Nothing will come of it. You're making a cake of yourself. Get on with life, as it is. This is all there will ever be."

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you think of this chapter? Was it anything like what you expected? <strong>

**I would apologise on focusing on Charlotte, but I'm not sorry at all. Of all the 'minor' characters in P&P, I have a particular soft spot for Charlotte, who is not as beautiful as Jane, lively as Elizabeth... and so on. Charlotte chooses to accept the very silly Mr Collins to gain what little independence she can, and does this with her eyes wide open. But more importantly, she knows her husband is not the ideal man, but is accepting of his weaknesses, recognises his strengths, such as they are, and is then continues to be happy in her choice. So, to me she is one of those quiet heroines, she'll have a number of children, who will grow up knowing they were loved, and thus will (probably, as long as they don't take after their father too much) do well in their own adult life.**

**I do apologise about the length of this - it was going to be a little longer, but in the end I didn't write Charlotte's visit to the apothacary as I had planned - where Mr Brown was all gushy over Elizabeth Smith and how she was an 'angel sent from God' as this view of Elizabeth by a lot of Ramsgate I've covered several times before, and while fun to write, was probably unnecessary. **

**And what did you think of Agnes? Is she a bit too much?  
><strong>


	44. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 9

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 9**

Darcy sat at his desk and stared at letter from Charles he had just opened in astonishment. It was almost entirely legible! Gone were all the crossings-out, the blotches and smeared words. So with this dramatic change in Bingley's usual manner clear evident, Darcy began to read.

_7 Moorfield Cres_

_Pudsey_

_Yorkshire,_

_My Dear Friend,_

_While I experience great pleasure to receive a further letter to you, and apologise for not replying to the one you sent earlier. I have recently changed to using the new steel nib pens that are now very popular in Yorkshire (and this one is made here in Leeds!). This missive is an example of how improved these are over quills, you should investigate purchase of a few, not that your letters are anything other than clear in any case. _

_To answer your most immediate question from your letter, both family and business matters here are such that I do not anticipate returning to London in the near future, even if the weather permitted anything other than the slowest of travel. My Great Aunt is not in the best of health. It has been recommended that she take the waters and her physician talked of the spa in Scarborough as the most efficacious. I must agree with the doctor that a Yorkshire spa would be far superior to any in the south. So I will be staying here until I accompany her, possibly about Easter when the roads are better for her comfort, for a stay of a month or so. Various cousins have offered to go in my stead but, as head of our extended family, I feel I must do this duty myself._

_I am very pleased to write that my cousin David and his wife welcomed their new son, Graham Charles Pearson into the world only last Tuesday. Mother and child are doing well. I have been assisting them to look for a new house, and think that they have found something suitable in Armley, which is large enough for additional family members beyond this child. I have had some discussions with David regarding having him take on managing the family business interests in London, but he is reluctant to expose his family to the London air and I have to agree with his dislike of London in general. Also, Adams is doing a fine job as it is, although I could do with his assistance here, maybe David could assist instead, so I see no real need to force the issue, since I will be moving business away from London in any case, which Adams is helping with._

_Bingley & Co is doing well, although I feel the manager my father appointed when he became ill is too conservative in his approach than I think is prudent. Luddite activity in the Midlands is still a concern, but the fear of an unruly mob should not be cause of delaying prudent investment new machinery. He also rejected overtures from several people our factory supplies in Manchester with proposed shared venture as he saw his role as only a caretaker maintaining the status-quo. As a result I have taken a direct role in managing the business to rebuild it so it will obtain reasonable returns and also have been involved with negotiating the terms of this possible new venture directly. I know you will find this hard to understand but I have found a new a sense of purpose, a feeling of accomplishment that rolling up your sleeves and getting stuck in with actual physical work gives. Maybe if I had already had an estate it could have provided this, but I am not suited for a life of idleness as the gentry often are the gentry life._

_So as you can see this time up north has given me time to think, and while I suspect you will disagree with this, I am considering that is not that good idea to fulfil my father's dream wish desire that I purchase an estate and join the gentry, it is better to leave that to my son. I do wonder if I have too much taint of the shop to be accepted by the gentry, as recent experience has suggested this is the case, and as I have discovered, I do not think I have the temperament for it. _

_But one thing I am certain of is that my love for Jane Bennet has not diminished one iota, in fact the absence has made me realise that it was a strong, abiding love, very different from what I had experienced in the past. I know now that in meeting her I have had the privilege of spending just a little time in the presence of an angel, and she will always fill that place in one's heart reserved for the one you love most in this world. I know you are sitting there accusing me of being overly sentimental, writing as I do of carrying a flame for her always, but that is the truth of it, and I still feel our friendship is strong enough to survive this. It has become obvious to me that my suit failed because, in the end, I was unworthy of her and the Good Lord has someone far better in store for her. Had there been any regard on her part, things would have been different, but you were right in recommending that I walk away, as you could see more clearly from your uninvolved point of view than I of the disparity of our situation, and the discussion we had regarding this, remember Matlock House and Adams?. But with all of that I will treasure the brief moments I spent in her company, and will not forget the littlest details of any of them the rest of the days of my life._

_But as you said marriage is one of the most important decisions a gentleman has to make, and it must be taken rationally and with a great deal of prior thought. So I have considered that, as you said, I need heirs, one to buy that estate my father was so focussed on, so will put aside these romantic feelings and rationally start searching for a wife, avoiding the vagaries of love that so often clouds this decision. So I will assume your approach, and will in meeting new ladies think 'would Darcy approve? Would he think she was suitable for me?' You will be proud of my thoroughness, as I have started drafting a list of attributes, based on your own criteria; intelligence, healthy, good complexion, a robust nature and attractive in appearance (but you will forgive me if I wish her not to be too beautiful, or blonde with blue eyes), and added a couple of my own; so she is to be industrious, dark haired, come from a large family and be satisfied knowing that my heart will always belong to another, although I am resolved to care for her and cherish her as well as I am able, however much that can be, and can promise that she will not want for anything else._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Mr Charles Bingley_

Darcy read the first part, which only partly explained his friend's new legibility, hoping to find more reasons for it, or at least clues to Charles' more thoughtful correspondence later in the letter. In any case, Darcy made a note to get Steele to find a similar source of steel nibs.

On reading the next paragraph, Darcy felt again the weight of his own responsibilities, as Bingley related having to make decisions and take on additional duties as head of the family. It was this shared experience that transcended their different positions, making Charles almost as dear to him as Georgiana or Richard. But, thought Darcy, I had at least some preparation, and was able to learn much in the few months prior to his father's untimely death. Charles' father, on the other hand, was taken suddenly, with no warning, so that Charles had been completely unprepared to take on that duty. Darcy was grateful he had been in a position to help his friend due to his own experience.

Darcy made a note to buy a gift for Charles' cousin's newest child and drop it in on the way to Pemberley, as it was likely he'd have to make the detour given Charles would not be in London soon to give it too. And it was polite to make the gift in person, as he had warmed to David Pearson a great deal when they were introduced last year. This was uncommon, but there was a similarity in sense and temperament that meant Darcy could respect Pearson's opinion even they disagreed. Hopefully Charles would be able to convince him to take a more active role as he'd make an able right hand man for whatever Charles wished him to do.

This last sentence of that paragraph, of moving the business away from London, provoked a fully verbalised "What on earth? Charles!" After realising he'd said it out loud, Darcy looked around, but thankfully none of the servants saw their master talking to himself.

Darcy was pleased to see Bingley was not prepared to leave the family business to suffer under a caretaker manager, as is often the case. Many thought business, or even estate matters, beneath them and left it entirely to others, to their detriment. He made a note to ask for more details of this joint venture, as there could be some value in the Darcy estate to have a broader base of income, and wondered if Charles would consent to including him as a partner. He then got rather annoyed at the next part of that paragraph. Did he have to add Charles to the list of person Darcy had discovered recently that misjudged his motives and attitudes?

As Darcy read on, he was growing more and more concerned with Charles's state of mind. Every though communicated suggested a growing despondency that if left to fester could lead to full blown melancholy. If there was any risk of that, Darcy would be packing for an immediate departure.

He was somewhat surprised at the level of Charles's frankness as he laid out the source of the despondency Darcy had detected. Knowing how rapidly his friend previously flitted from one lady to another, even when the first was still present, that he still held such strong attachment to Jane Bennet after this length of time, where he had expected to read of Charles's latest flirt, reinforced the validity of the sentiments related in the letter.

But when Darcy read why Charles thought his suit had failed, and how he thought Darcy had recommended he walk away Darcy was too annoyed, for a few moments, to read further. He took this break to get himself a brandy, and sipped it while he walked slowly back to chair near the fire, calming down while he did so. So it was with near equanimity that Darcy sat and tried to remember what he actually said as Charles also thought it was his fault. He certainly did not remember saying anything other than having Charles find out how she felt about him, and if she had not regard to walk away, but in the heat of the moment, having to rush off to rescue Georgiana from Wickham, he had to accept he could have easily been less considered in his reply than he should. Maybe Elizabeth's accusation had far more merit than he had previously given credence. Certainly something to think on.

The rest of that part made almost as little sense. Charles mental state must have made him think that he was not at least as respectable as the Bennets, and in many ways, the effect of his cousin's actions had on the Bennets and Charles' wealth and thus his ability to join the gentry by buying an estate – Darcy knew he had to convince Charles to rekindle his desire to own property, something he had been very keen on right up to this most recent setback – meant he was far more eligible than he thought. Which made the last part of his letter all the more worrying, as this opened his friend up to the machinations of an unscrupulous lady (or mother) to trap Charles into a loveless marriage while his defences were so disorganised.

While Darcy could agree with many of the sentiments Charles expressed about the attributes of a lady worthy of attentions – well everything but that last point – without love, marriage to the perfect lady, Darcy was certain you'd still end up with you feeling as if your were trapped in a prison, knowing that you'd made the worse decision of your life, even if it had seemed like if had been for all the right reasons at the time. As he had only just discovered, far, far better to chose the one you love, however far from perfect (Elizabeth) than one you could not care for even if they were what would be considered a perfect match by all of society (Caroline Bingley or Cassandra Trent). The thought of marrying either of the latter cause an involuntary shiver.

Darcy sat for some time thinking of what to reply to this letter. In the end, realising that there was little time before dinner, Darcy wrote a quick note thanking Charles for his reply, requesting in the strongest language that Charles not do anything too precipitously regarding his future, asked that his congratulations passed on to the new parents and then remarked that he hoped that Charles would not shun London completely, as there was much that he would like to talk to him about, and wanted the benefit of Charles's advice. After commenting very positively on the legibility of the letter Darcy closed with the comment that a much fuller letter will be following shortly. It was just after Darcy had finished sealing this note for the post first thing tomorrow that Steele came to announce dinner. Darcy stood and handed over the letter to Steele before following him to the dining room.

It was while eating a shorten dinner, as he was in no mood to prolong eating unaccompanied, that Darcy realised that, had things been different. No, had HE been different – that was the lesson his grandmother had tried to show him, and he was only just realising the full extent of it – he could have been anticipating sharing almost every dinner with Elizabeth. Although the prospect at this time did seem as far away as the chair she'd sit in at the other end of the long dining table. He then wondered, when – Darcy hoped rather than believed in when – so maybe if, Elizabeth consented to be his wife, would she be offended if he asked she sit at his right hand rather than at the other end of the table as was proper? Maybe he could arrange for dinner to be held upstairs in their apartments if they did not have guests. Thinking of which, Darcy considered whether to get Steele to have the mistress's apartments redone, or would that cause unwarranted speculation and be better left until the betrothal was announced? Maybe Elizabeth would prefer to do it herself, although he hoped she'd not change too much of his mother's own legacy, as this and her apartments and several other rooms at Pemberley were the few places that still evoked crystal clear memories of his long departed mother, the passage of time blurring many of the others. Darcy speculated on this and similar thoughts the rest of the time eating before returning to the library.

As he walked in, thinking about the fallibility of memory, he realised that he could not quite remember the entirety of that passage he'd read only earlier that day from I Corinthians 13. He went to the appropriate shelf and pulled out the family bible, turning again to those verses. Unfortunately this was the King James version, and had the other translation, so it was 'faith, hope and charity'. Pulling out the next bible, it was also the same. The passage worked , as he remembered, if he substituted "love' for 'charity', but that exercise interrupted the flow, the poetry inherent in the passage.

Looking around, Darcy did not see any that looked like the copy of the John Wesley New Testament that his Grandmother had him read from, so he promised himself that he'd buy a copy at the earliest opportunity. Feeling frustrated, Darcy remembered that his father, an avid collector of old editions, may have earlier bibles, but stored in a different cabinet in the library. Going over there, he found the precious, if very large, second edition Great Bible from 1541 and a first edition of the King James Bible printed in 1611. Not bothering with the later, Darcy was disappointed that the Great Bible was an equally poor translation. Searching through the rest of that cabinet and then the next, Darcy found a rare fifth edition of the Coverdale Bible, printed as early as the 1540's as far as Darcy knew. While not as elegantly written as John Wesley's version, it did have the passage as he remembered it.

After reading and re-reading it, with long passages in between sat in contemplation, Darcy reached the point where he could recite it now direct from memory. Darcy was still amazed at how succinctly and all-encompassing that passage was. How it cut through all the smoke and chaos to speak directly to the heart of the matter. Further to that it was humiliating to realise how far from this ideal he was.

That night, in contemplation of all his Grandmother had told and taught him, and examining his own heart in light of what he'd learnt, Darcy slowly came to the realisation of the extent of his own pride and conceit. How selfish and overbearing he had become, just expecting, no, effectively demanding her acceptance of his offer just because he wanted it so. He had given no consideration of Elizabeth herself or her daughter. Elizabeth's own needs and desires, totally absent from his thoughts whatsoever. Then there was the way his parents, although they were all that was benevolent and kind, had been blind to this view of love for others than each other as he had been. How they had allowed, encouraged and almost taught him by example to care for none beyond his own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world and to wish, or at least to think, meanly of their sense and worth compared with his own. Although it was his own failing that took it to the point that someone that he thought of as a very close friend could be worried that their holding opinion that might offend him could jeopardise that friendship.

If was, as had been many previous nights recently, the guttering of the candles, as they struggled to stay lit, having burnt to the barest stubs, that made Darcy realise how late it had become. Thankfully, he thought as he retired, he'd had the wherewithal to tell the rest of the house not to wait up for him. Although, with a wry smile, as Steele assisted him out of his evening clothes, Darcy realised there would be no way of going to bed after his butler, even if he made it an express order.

* * *

><p>Darcy woke late the next day, if only late for him, as it was still morning, due to his even late evening, with a new sense of purpose. After dealing with only the most urgent of the correspondence, read over breakfast – Darcy noticed Steele's frowns at this behaviour – and these he answered immediately afterwards, Darcy left to find a copy of the John Wesley New Testament, which took the rest of the morning. Being close to his club at midday, Darcy chose to have lunch there rather than returning home.<p>

But this time, lunch at the club was less than satisfactory, as his new found perspective on life and the world grated badly with the mostly vacuous conversation and idle posturing of the other gentlemen there.

While returning home Darcy was struck with the thought that even as there were huge obstacles that he had to overcome to be acceptable to Elizabeth, this was not the case for his friend Charles and Elizabeth's sister Jane Bennet. He knew that Charles loved Jane even now. That it had continued with all this time and distance between them, admitted to even after Charles thought it would cause a breach in their friendship, meant it was something a great deal more than his customary chasing of whatever was the prettiest girl in the vicinity. And then there was the testimony of Elizabeth, stating in her direct way how the affect of his advice had left her sister heartbroken. If there was, could there be, a possible reconciliation between those two? And if there was, how could that be made to happen? Could his actions be the manner in which this came to pass? It would certainly reverse Charles's melancholy which, while not stated, was implied throughout the letter he'd just written.

Darcy was honest enough with himself to be fully aware that he had strong ulterior motives for doing so, well beyond just ensuring his friend's happiness. Firstly, it would be hard to marry Elizabeth, while his friend and her sister were still estranged, at what seemed his instigation, however inadvertently that had been. Secondly, being the cause of their reconciliation could only help his standing in the eyes of the person he now most wanted their approbation. And finally, in light of his new found knowledge, it was, in his opinion, the right thing to do. It would require him to humble himself and apologise to both parties for his role in causing or prompting their separation in the first place. Darcy felt rather proud of his deciding this course of action and the ease in which he was willing to accept the need to apologise, although he wasn't sure he should allow himself to be. The rest of his walk home was spent deciding how to entice Charles out of Leeds and back to London, sure that proximity, and a few judicious pushes would be all that was needed do the trick.

It was that afternoon, while answering the rest of his correspondence that Darcy realised that he would be doing Charles a considerable disservice if he got him to London on a wild goose chase. Maybe Jane's disinterest was genuine, whatever Elizabeth had said, she was not there at the time. Maybe Jane Bennet had found another suitor, one that had not faltered at the first gate. This was something Darcy was annoyed with Charles for, given what he now knew. There was also that nagging feeling that maybe Charles was being taken in, although he did find it hard to believe, his many years of dogged pursuit by matchmaking mothers and ever-hopeful debutantes would not allow this thought to rest. No, it was not fair on his friend to bring him down and then have what little hope Darcy had kindled dashed completely. That would be unconscionable, and be actual cause of a breach of their friendship. No what was needed was for him to visit her to ascertain her regard himself. He hoped, that by dropping Bingley's name at a tedious point in a conversation with her, he could gauge her attachment based on the change of notice she took at that point. Feeling he'd hit a clever solution that did not need to be crass enough to ask directly, all he needed was to make her acquaintance, which posed the first question, where could she be found.

Searching around in his desk for a while, Darcy eventually rediscovered where he had noted Jane's address in London. He had, for some unknown reason, recorded it after dropping Elizabeth off there when he had taken her and Amy-Jane to see her sister late last year. He was amazed to think back on that trip. How had he missed her antipathy to him? He'd been so blind, so certain of his acceptability that he'd not bothered to pay any attention at all to the lady he'd planned to spend the rest of his life with.

After a debate with himself about calling at this very unfashionable hour of the afternoon, he eventually decided best to strike while the iron was hot, so there was nothing to but to brave the deteriorating weather once again. As he headed towards Cheapside, although she lived on Watling Street, which was at its very edge, Darcy realised that he'd need an excuse to call once he'd arrived. Several ideas were discarded before Darcy went with the only vaguely plausible one - that he wished to make the acquaintance as his sister, having made Miss Bennet's sister's acquaintance in Ramsgate. With his sister due to return to London, was keen on making her acquaintance as well, and as she was not yet out, needed him to make the introduction, and so he was just doing the polite thing to allow this to occur.

* * *

><p>The door of the Carmichaels (Darcy noticed the name on the brass plaque on the wall) was answered by a maid. "Good afternoon sir."<p>

"Good afternoon. I realise this is not the best time to be calling, but I wonder if Miss Bennet is available."

The maid curtsied. "I shall jus' check sir." And she left him standing in the hallway.

While waiting, Darcy looked around. The place was tastefully decorated, nicely appointed with high quality furnishings yet not ostentatious and the lady of the house clearly instructed the household servants in their tasks well, as everything was tidy and clean. Before long the maid returned.

"No sorry sir, no one is available, sir."

"Not to worry, I had not expected to be received, given the late hour. Here's my card, can you let the mistress of the house or Miss Bennet know I called?"

"Certainly, sir."

"I'll be off then." Darcy collected his cane, hat and gloves. Turning he waited as the maid opened to door for him.

"Goodbye, sir."

"Goodbye."

Damn! Though Darcy as he headed back towards Darcy House. He had hoped she'd be willing to receive him even though he'd come at an unfashionable hour. Still they now knew he'd called and so should be available at the proper hour tomorrow.

* * *

><p>So it was rather disappointing to arrive the next day and discover that the ladies of the house were all out but, given that they would not know who he was, they may have chosen to continue their usual routine as planned. But then, Darcy remembered, Charles said he'd met her at a local park while he was in the area, so Darcy spent the rest of the morning wandering around the local parks, looking for a lady that looked like a blonde blue-eyed version of Elizabeth. Which, he had to admit, was all the description, other than she was an 'angel' and 'very beautiful' from Charles he had to go on.<p>

While there were a number of ladies that might have met the criteria, none appeared similar enough to Elizabeth in both looks and carriage. Darcy did spot a lady, with both blue eyes and blonde hair, whose face looked similar enough to Elizabeth to prompt him to move over towards her. When he spotted her, she was sitting with several children and their nurse, but as he approached she stood. Now he could see her standing, she was so much taller and willowy in carriage than Elizabeth that Darcy realised he was seeing resemblance where they was none. So embarrassed by the fact that he nearly made a huge social faux-pas by approaching a mother and asking if she was Miss Bennet, Darcy turned and hurriedly walked off. That ended Darcy abortive attempts to find Jane by prowling about the local parks.

* * *

><p>When on the following day, a Friday, they were still not at home, Darcy was perplexed, but not overly worried. It was odd, the maid had gone off this time to return with the message they were not at home to visitors, but without giving any reason for this, or suggesting a suitable time for him to return. Still, this was not that uncommon an occurrence, so he'd try again on Monday. Anyway he had a meeting this afternoon with Adams, looking to pick up as much of the London investments Bingley was quitting. Darcy hoped that once he'd fixed things with Charles and Jane, he could hand them back, but if not, they must be good long term value, given that Bingley had invested, and Darcy had to admit Bingley had a much better grasp of business and investments than he.<p>

* * *

><p>"No, sir, she ain't home." Was the reply Darcy got as he stood on the doorstep, the rain dripping off his hat and occasionally getting down behind his collar, not even having made it into the hallway. As he turned away, he was annoyed with the rudeness of the Bennets' maid.<p>

As he walked towards the end of the street, Darcy suddenly could have kicked himself. He'd been silly enough to leave his card, and Elizabeth must have told her sister how he was responsible for Charles's desertion. So of course she'd not receive him. He could call every day for a month and not get any further than he had to date. As he flagged down a Hackney Cab, he rued that he could not go and ask his Grandmother for advice. But she'd had been ill since Thursday, and she had requested he refrain from visiting for now. While he had plenty to talk to her about before today, and had planned to call the weekend just gone, and this revelation added to the list of items to discuss, nothing was urgent, and could wait, however annoying the delay was.

The cab driver must have been new to London, as Darcy had to redirect him as he had ended up in the legal quarter, and practically guide him to Darcy House. Usually that would have put Darcy in an even fouler mood than he'd been before climbing into his cab, but the detour had given Darcy a very cunning idea. So the very apologetic, almost cringing cab driver received the full fare and a little extra rather than being told to leave without any pay, once stopped outside Darcy house.

Once inside Darcy gave Steele a perfunctory greeting before bounding up every flight of stairs until he reached the attics. There, Darcy rummaged around in the various trunks and wardrobes until he found the most subdued of his father's coats. Darcy could not believe some of the coats his father must have worn, but he must have given they were stored up here, put away as fashion changed, probably expecting it to change back. Darcy found it hard to think his father could walk out of the house wearing any of the very bright colours, the sumptuous velvets, satins and silks, the profusion of lace, the braid or embroidered patterns, large shiny gold buttons and now tarnished silver buckles and the odd cuts that the gentleman of his time must have worn. Coat found, Darcy continued until he had everything else he thought he'd need, other than a suitable pair of boots.

So, rather dusty himself, Darcy took the reclaimed clothing down to his apartments to look through his own wardrobe for a matching set of old boots, but without finding any. Obviously Steele did not allow old boots to remain in his possession. So there was nothing else to do, regardless of how Steele would object, but to make one of his current pairs 'more suitable', so Darcy rang for a servant. When a footman arrived, he sent him to send up his butler.

"Ah, good, there you are Steele."

"Yes sir?"

"Can you scuff up these boots for me, they look too clean."

"What! Sir, you cannot be asking me to do that to a good pair of boots."

"Please Steele, I only need them like that for a day."

"But sir, those are boots from Hoby's. Let me find a less worthy pair, or better still, I can have my nephew carry out your errand, and save you all this trouble, sir."

"Trouble Steele? It is no trouble at all, it is… a… an adventure!"

"An adventure, sir!"

"Don't look at me like that Steele. Yes, an adventure."

"But sir, respectable gentlemen don't have… don't have adventures!"

"Well this one does. So please… my boots…"

"Please sir, can I not persuade you to consider my nephew?"

"Not at all Steele, I'm keen to carry out this subterfuge. See, I managed to find a suitable coat." Darcy pointed to the old dusty coat he'd rescued from the attic.

"Good lord sir, you cannot be considering going out in that. It cannot fit you properly any longer."

"That's the whole point, I want to look like a poor law clerk, who has to wear others cast-offs, thus the scuffed boots."

"I cannot persuade you otherwise sir?"

"No Steele, I am off today. Maybe I should wear a read vest, like the Bow Street Runners do."

"Please sir, can you wait one day? I can find suitable attire for you tomorrow, coat, boots, hat and even gloves. If I cannot have you give up this idea, I will not let you go out in a cobbled together costume, let me ensure it is done properly, particularly the boots."

"Very well Steele, but if you can't find boots, you'll scuff these ones up personally."

"Of course sir, but those boots are safe. You can count on me sir."

* * *

><p>So a day later than intended Darcy left for his adventure. He was dressed in a set of clothes and wearing boots that Steele assured him was what any poor clerk was wearing right now, and had been cautiously and with a great deal of secrecy, snuck out of the rear of Darcy house into a Hackney cab that was already waiting for him, complete with an additional occupant - none other than Steele's nephew. The nephew appeared to have been tasked with attempting to convince his uncle's master out of this foolishness, or if that was not possible, at very least accompany him to prevent him, as Frank Steele stated 'getting noticed by anyone who should not do so'. Darcy was certain this was directed to prevent him being seen by the other senior servants in the neighbourhood, not his own contemporaries.<p>

Having easily resisted the nephew's entreaties, and reassuring him that Darcy would ensure that Steele knew the failure was entirely due his own intractability, he then pumped the younger Mr Steele for information about how a law clerk should act and speak. Frank had a wealth of knowledge in this area, working as he did as a bank clerk. After driving around for a while to learn all he could, Darcy went to drop Mr Steele back at his bank, and let him know that if he had any trouble with his superiors, let him know and he'd go in and clear it up. Frank reassured Darcy that this was not the case, he had half a day off a week, and traded his usual Thursday afternoon with a colleague for his one this morning, so was free to accompany him the entire morning! As this was not part of Darcy's plan, he handed Mr Steele a half crown and told him, in no uncertain terms, to go off and enjoy himself for the rest of the morning as he was doing this alone.

Having gotten rid of the very clingy young Mr Steele, Darcy had himself set down at the St Paul's end of Watling Street and headed into the lane that led to the rear of each house. Thinking of how Richard would do it, Darcy realised he wouldn't go straight at his quarry, but work towards it, so stopped and asked questions at a few houses before entering the back of what he thought was Jane Bennet's relatives place.

He was rather pleased to see what could only be a scullery or kitchen maid in the back cleaning out a pot that someone had left to boil over and it had burnt food all down the sides. Cleaning it back to shiny metal would be a long and tedious task, and he was sure that she would be willing to take a break to talk to him, as had the been the case in several places he'd already called at. That had made him realise how much the servants gossiped, and he did hope that the Darcy servants were less loquacious to the casual callers as these had been.

"Mornin' miss." Darcy said in is best imitation of a clerk.

"Mornin' mister. What you be wanting?"

"I was wondering if Miss Bennet... " then taking a look at a piece of of blank paper from a pocket, as if he was checking a name, "... a Miss Jane Bennet." Seeing that the maid was looking a bit skeptical, Darcy added, " It is the matter of a small bequest. Just a few trinkets really. The old dear was very insistent, but she only remember somewhere on Watling Street as the address."

"Oh 'er. Nah, she ain't here. I c'n pass on yer message."

"When will she be in? You realise I have to hand these jewellery over personally. Worth my job if she don't get it."

"You'll 'ave to keep tryin' if you's comin' roun' 'ere, she don't visit 'ere of'en."

"Visit? You mean this is not her residence."

"If yer mean is she live 'ere. Nah, she don't. She jus' visits."

"Oh." Darcy was certain he had the right house, he'd be very careful in counting as he progressed down the lane, but the configuration of the back yards must have fooled him some how, so he pointed either side and said, "So which one is it, left or right?"

"What, them? Nah, 'er Uncle is jus' 'round the corner on Wood Street. Can't miss it, gotta bright red door 'er house 'as. She did used to come of'en when the kidlings were little, but no so much now."

Elizabeth's relatives live on the house with a bright red door on Wood Street? The little minx! Darcy smiled broadly at the memory of how smug he'd felt at the time having wiggled her address out of her. This reaction must have caused the maid to be concerned as she then said

""Ere, what you up to?"

"Oh, sorry. It is just that you've saved me a lot of time and shoe leather. Thank you. Here's a shilling for your trouble."

As soon a he went to give over the coin, Darcy realised that he'd erred. A shilling would be far too much for a poor law clerk to give away. Best if he said something. "You've done me a big favour. I've been promised half a crown if I find her before the end of the week, so I'll go give the items today, and not tell my master and get all of tomorrow off while I pretend to look for her, and still get my reward at the same time. Best I be off, there's a pint with my name on it waiting. Good bye, miss.

"Bye, mister," and winking at him, "Thank ye. If you want a bit of help spendin' that reward, I'm off tomorrow a'ternoon."

"I might just take you up on that miss. Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

><p>Walking down Wood Street, there was only one house with a bright red door. It was a little older, and smaller than the one he had been calling on in Watling Street, but appeared better maintained, complete with cheery window boxes, which would provide extra colour come summer.<p>

Darcy went as far as climbing the front steps and lifting the door knocker, before realising that he'd not in any state to call as himself, and even if he did, the Gardeners might have been warned about him by the Carmichaels. But the name Gardener seemed familiar, as he stood there deciding whether to knock or not, Darcy remembered that Adams had mentioned Mr Gardener several times in relation to recent investments Bingley had made. Given that was the case, he thought he'd have far more luck if Adams could introduce him to Mr Gardener, initially anonymously, which would get them in the same room, and once his name was known, Mr Gardener would give him the opportunity to explain, if he had to.


	45. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 10

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 10**

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke feeling quite a bit better, but not yet well. Her fever had abated, and that must mean she was finally on the road to recovery from what had laid her out over the last few days. At least now she was able to pay attention something other than her body's aches and pains, her sore throat and throbbing head and the bouts of uncontrollable shivering or sweat drenched fever. She had been aware during that time of someone other than Charlotte or Mrs Carter caring for her, and was sure the lady she was returning her chamber pot had been introduced with an explanation of why and or how she was here, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember any of it.<p>

"Ah, you're up then? There's tea and a little something to eat on the side table."

Elizabeth looked over, and there, beside the tea, was more than a full breakfast sitting on a tray; there was a small bowl of porridge, a larger one of chicken broth, yet another with preserved pear halves, a couple of slices of fresh bread already buttered and a plate of scrambled eggs. 'My Lord!" thought Elizabeth, 'surely I'm not expected to eat all of that!' as memories surfaced of being coerced to consume a full bowl of broth, however reluctantly by this very same lady over the last few days. Something she had not appreciated at the time, however much it she realised now it would have been for her own good.

Her dismay must have shown on her face as the lady then added, "If your throat is still sore then you only have to have the broth, all of it mind, but just that. Otherwise if you are up to it, eat what you want. If you are feeling well, you'll have your appetite back and then some, so this will fill the spot."

Elizabeth, whose throat was no longer sore, thought she might just be able say something, so tested her voice out with a simple "thank you" - which came out almost normally with just a small amount of the hoarseness left. Sipping some sweet warm not hot tea, subdued the scratchy feeling further and now much relieved Elizabeth realised she was famished.

Elizabeth hoped Charlotte would come in soon, she couldn't keep thinking of her as 'the lady', and felt too embarrassed to ask her for her name, as she should know it already. As she went to take the plate of eggs, the lady stopped her. Annoyed with the lady's presumption, Elizabeth was about to object, when the lady helped her lean forward, fluffed the pillows behind her, and pulled her back up so she sat up in a much better position to eat before placing the tray in front of her. Elizabeth gave her a thankful smile, before hunger got the better of her and she tucked in. She tried to start with the chicken broth, but after having it exclusively for the last few days, her stomach churned with the first mouthful, so she gave it a miss. Actually, Elizabeth hoped not to see any for a great many days to come. But everything else seemed so delicious, she had to try a little of each, which soon became more than just a little.

Elizabeth was vaguely aware that the lady stayed in the room vaguely tidying up, but almost her entire focus had been on the food in front of her. Sitting back, now stuffed full and feeling sleepy, Elizabeth could not believe she'd eaten all the eggs and bread, the pears and most of the porridge.

"There you go dear," said the lady, "Said you'd be hungry, didn't I. Here, sit up again, I'll fix your pillows… …There. Now lay back down, a good rest will see you right."

Elizabeth murmured some sort of thanks as she lay back down, already half way to sleep.

"No problem love. I'll pop in to check every so often, but if you need me, I'm likely to be next door with Mrs Carter. You'll be pleased to know she's much better too. But, no over doing it, at least another day in bed for you both will go down a treat."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth woke again, this time late morning from the angle the sun made as it streamed through the window, to see Charlotte in attendance this time. Her friend looked a bit drawn.<p>

"How are you feeling Charlotte?"

"Not that bad. No, I am not sick, just a bit tired."

"Oh dear, it was my fault, wasn't it. I am so sorry."

"Don't worry yourself, it's not been that bad, Agnes has been a godsend."

"Agnes? Was she in here earlier?"

"Yes, that's her."

"Who is she? She seems familiar but I can't place her?"

"She's a maid from Darcy House in London that was asked to come to Ramsgate after Richard was shot. He arranged for her to come to help me when the two of you were so badly ill. A real treasure, once you get used to her little ways."

"Ah. I did wonder."

"I suppose you were in no state to notice when she first arrived. Anyway I am glad you are feeling better. Do you want me to continue reading were we left off? Jane sent us the last volume, it arrived yesterday, so we can finish it now. Oh dear I forgot, there is a letter from her also. I'll just go get it."

Elizabeth was about to protest that it was not necessary, but Charlotte had already rushed off. She came back a little later and handed her the letter. Jane's letters were typically long and filled with a thousand little occurrences, which meant she crammed a lot of information onto both sides of the page, leaving only the area for an address clear. Although they had become easier to read more recently, as Jane was less fulsome than she had been and so did not cross her lines as she had done in the past. Elizabeth tried to read it but just could not concentrate enough to decipher small tightly written lines.

"Charlotte, I can't read this now. Did you read it?" Elizabeth indicated at the letter before putting it on her side table.

"So sorry, but yes I did."

"Don't be silly, there's no need to apologise, it's addressed to both of us. Is there anything I need know about?"

"Do you want me to read it to you? No? Fine. Not to worry. No, it only contains the usual. Oh, yes, she wished you get well soon, several times. I'll write another letter today, saying your fever broke last night, my reply yesterday was before that happened, so as far as she knows you are still quite ill."

"Good, good. Jane will be very worried, won't she?"

"Of course Lizzie. But my letter today will put her at ease. Maybe I should send it express."

"But the expense!"

"Don't worry, I've still got a little bit left. Yes, I'll send it express. It will be nice to get good news that way. It is almost always bad news."

"Oh Charlotte, no, no don't! Until she reads it, she'll think the worst has happened. What if she's not home and Aunt Madeline gets it first. To get an express from Ramsgate, while they know I am ill, what would she think? She'll have to get someone to find Jane urgently, and you know how Jane will worry until she gets to read it. No, send it normal post."

"That's a good point. I best go off and write it now if it is to get the regular post to London in time. Is there anything you need?"

"No. But thank you for asking. Actually I feel a bit tired. I might just try to doze off again. Pop in once you've posted the letter to Jane. Oh, do add a bit from me, that I'm feeling much better and should be right as rain in a day or two."

"No problem Lizzie."

Something had been nagging Elizabeth the entire time, but she wasn't sure what it was until just now. The house was too quiet. Had Amy-Jane come down with this as well? No, Charlotte would have said. At least she hoped so.

"Charlotte? Is Amy-Jane alright? I don't hear her."

"She's fine. Still next door, I plan to fetch her home tomorrow."

"Why not today? My fever's broken."

"Give yourself time to get better. She'll be better off coming home when you are better."

"No, bring her home today. I'll get up now." And Elizabeth started to sit up but was prevented, as much by her illness induce weakness as Charlotte's hand on her shoulder.

"No you don't. You're in no state to care for yourself properly, let alone Amy-Jane. She's happy playing with Billy. Mrs Hughes has taken them out to the common as this has been the first fine day since, well, since you caught cold. And don't think I've forgotten about that either. There will be an accounting as for why you've been sick twice in a month. No, don't worry, I'm happy to leave it for a few days, but you will tell me before long. You gave me, well, all of us, quite a fright. Now lie back and sleep a bit more, your body needs it. I'll pop in to check on you from time to time."

"Thank you Charlotte, you're a better friend than I deserve."

"Rubbish. The Good Lord provides us what, and who, we need. Don't you forget that. Right, time to write this letter. You sleep."

"Yes nurse."

"No that is Agnes, I'm just the concerned friend. Get some sleep, I'll see you in a bit."

"Thanks." Elizabeth smiled at Charlotte as she departed before laying back, 'just to her eyes a moment'.

* * *

><p>When Elizabeth next woke, it was mid-afternoon. She had hoped that Charlotte would be there, but her room was empty of others. Sitting up, which was much easier this time as her strength was returning, Elizabeth reached over and took Jane's letter.<p>

It was, as Charlotte said, just the usual, although peppered throughout with Jane's concern for her health. Thankfully Elizabeth read that the Gardener household had been having a fairly good winter, with even the children avoiding most of the common winter illness so far. Jane went on to mention a few interesting things that had happened or what their young cousins had said. But through all of this there was a sense of resignation from Jane. She had not yet started mentioning putting on a lace cap, to signify she'd become a spinster, as Charlotte had begun to do, but there were several comments about being resigned to be the Aunt to her sisters' or cousins' children. One heartening bit of news was that Catherine had come to London with Mrs Durrant and was doing very well. Jane wrote of how she had changed a great deal from the last time she had been in London and the way she was turning into a young lady they could be very proud of. Elizabeth hoped Catherine thought to add a little at the end of Jane's letter, but it was not the case. This was understandable, if a little hurtful, as Mrs Durrant did not approve of Elizabeth's actions. While she did not forbid any contact or letter writing, she did discourage it, and this was something that Catherine appeared to have picked up on. Still, the news Jane had imparted made her feel happy that Catherine was doing well, and seemed to have good prospects for her future. Mrs Durrant had been as good for Catherine as the Gardeners had been for Jane.

While she read the letter, Elizabeth was aware that the Darcy maid had looked in but had not entered. She had just about finished when Agnes returned with a tea tray with a couple of scones on a plate alongside it.

"Good to see you up ma'am. How are you feeling? Up for a bite to eat?"

"I am feeling much better, thank you Agnes. Yes, those scones look delicious. Thank you."

"Ah yes, my masters favourite. Had the Darcy Cook give me the recipe before I came 'ere. She was not going to do it, thinking I jus' wanted it for myself, but when I said it was to ensure Mr Darcy got his scones, she not only gave me the recipe, but taught me how to sift the flour half a dozen or more times to keep the air in. Makes 'em light as a feather. Do you like them?"

Elizabeth had started to think maybe Mr Darcy was not so bad, but here was a bit of proof to support her view that he could be as demanding a master as other gentlemen.

"So he demands his servants makes only scones to his standard?"

"No. Mr Darcy don't demand anything. What gave you that idea? He's the best master, although that Colonel is not too bad, but he's nothing compared to my Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth was a bit sceptical about this, and it may have shown as Agnes then continued, "You ask any of his servants, ma'am. They'd all say the same. Anyone that's been in service elsewhere all knows they got the best master with Mr Darcy. A stint at the Darcy House sets you up for life. Did you know I've had three offers to leave his service already, and I've only been there 6 years? He's even managed to find assistant housekeeper positions for a couple of the upper maids 'cause he said their talents was wasted as maids. Anne Bertram now is housekeeper for Lord Wharton, at only 34, fancy that, eh?"

Elizabeth reached for the other scone. They were so delicious and very light. Elizabeth made a note to try her hand at baking her own after sifting the flour far more times than she would normally as the Darcy Cook recommended.

"That is a good position. She was very fortunate." Elizabeth knew advancement in service was generally slow, and 34 was a very young age for a housekeeper anywhere, let alone in a residence of someone from the peerage.

"Aye, that she was. But all of us are fortunate. Mr Darcy is such that we all want to make everything perfect for him. I've not heard him yell or abuse a servant in all the years I've been there. And his father was much the same, although less involved as Mr Darcy. If you have a problem, he even helps with it, not turn you off like other masters do. Take that Hannah Ellish, her baby is now 16 months old. Mr Darcy got her a position while she was still heavy with child and let her have it at Darcy House. He got her a doctor and everything, at his expense! Then he's allowed her to stay afterwards. He even remembered Lisa's first birthday late last year, bought a beautiful silver and coral teether. That is why we know what we've got the best master. You know he'll do the best for you and stand by you when hundreds of other would kick you out on the street."

As Agnes then rambled on a bit about Darcy House gossip, which maids were wearing the willow for certain footman, it appeared that several idiotic young things were all trying for Joseph Dowling, a newly employed footman. As Agnes related the servant on-dits she tidied the room and Elizabeth finished the second scone. Agnes was happy, it seemed, to leave Elizabeth to her thoughts, before collecting the dishes and heading downstairs.

Once Agnes was gone, Elizabeth tried fitting in this latest titbit into the puzzle that was Mr Darcy. This was the sort of information she realised she needed, confirmation of Mr Darcy's immoral propensities. Her hours of deep thought recently had vacillated between their being a 'good Mr Darcy' or him as a 'bad Mr Darcy'. But here was a definitive unsolicited report of Mr Darcy looking after a mistress, well if not a mistress, a maid he forced himself upon. Well to be charitable, Elizabeth had to concede that he was handsome enough not to need to force himself any woman, as a great deal would be more than willing, and in his favour he did do the right thing after conceiving a by-blow, in ensuring the woman was not left destitute.

Feeling relief that she had been vindicated, that her refusal was totally justified, Elizabeth also felt a little disappointed. It would have been nice to think she could attract something other than an immoral gentleman, one that cared, but the evidence, once again pointed out that no gentleman was blameless. Even Richard had his flaws. Elizabeth was certain that he was, however unconsciously, leading Charlotte on. Allowing her to call him Richard, while he called her Charlotte. Sure, she and him were on first name basis, but that was different, they had established that there could be no possibility of anything other than friendship early on, but doubted that this was the case with her friend. But there was a nagging thought that she had, once again, like with Mrs Younge, misjudged the evidence. Didn't Mr Darcy deny most emphatically that he was nothing like his cousin, and yet this indicated he was capable of similar actions himself. Or did it?

The rest of Elizabeth's afternoon, when she was not dozing, was spent either thinking about Mr Darcy and all she knew or thought she knew about him all over again, with this little bit more information added. When, so deep in thought, that Charlotte had to give her a nudge just to noticed she'd entered her bedroom, Elizabeth realised she'd been obsessing about that man again, and blushed furiously. What was it about him that caused this obsessiveness? She needed to get over it, and him, fast. Regardless of how, in the end, she felt about him, and that did seem to be a changeable as the weather at the moment, her refusal would mean she'd never see him back here in Ramsgate, and they were unlikely to cross paths, if ever, even if they were both in London at the same time.

"I hope it was a good thought." commented Charlotte.

That just caused the blush to return, almost as strong as before.

"Oh, it was nothing, I'm just embarrassed about causing you so much trouble getting caught out in the rain again."

"Sure. No worry, I'll pry any further. For now."

At that comment, Elizabeth decided an immediate change in subject was warranted, so asked Charlotte a question that related to Jane's letter, which worked. After that line of enquiry ceased to distract, Elizabeth got Charlotte to read from where they had got up to in Sense and Sensibility.

* * *

><p>A day later, she was up and about, but still very shaky. She had wanted to fetch back Amy-Jane, but Charlotte put up a good case for her to wait a day, until she was back to normal, else she'd risk a relapse. Looking with annoyance at the doll and cradle bought only yesterday by Charlotte, but with Richard's money, Elizabeth realised Amy-Jane's delight with this new gift would almost make it acceptable, but it still rankled. Elizabeth would never have the money to do anything similar for her daughter. Even with more than her usual economy, which did allow the occasional luxury, she could not put aside enough to afford anything like this extravagance.<p>

Mrs Carter, as typical, was extending her own recovery a few days, so the rest of the day involved assisting her, giving Charlotte as much a break as possible. Each time she walked passed that new doll in its cradle she got more and more used to it, and by nightfall, had reached the stage where she was genuinely happy to thank Richard for the gift. As Amy-Jane's relative, an uncle of sorts, it was only proper for him to give gifts, and he did specifically mention that he wanted them to buy a doll, so the thought was there from the start.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, while sitting together in the parlour, catching up with a range of household chores that had been neglected, Charlotte made good her promise.<p>

"Well Lizzie?..."

"Well what?"

"Don't you well what me Lizzie. You know… Why were you out in the rain, again, eh? And don't try to give me some farradiddle about getting caught by the rain while coming back from somewhere, it was not that heavy and you were soaked right through."

"Can't we talk about this another day?"

"I'm sure you want to, but no. Why Lizzie? I need to know if only to protect you from yourself. Think how many more days you were ill this time. Next time could well be worse, and I do not want to ever contemplate that."

"I am sorry. I hadn't thought of it in that way. It all comes back to Mr Darcy. I used to think he was…" Elizabeth continued, tentatively at first, but later with a good amount of detail, to explain what she had originally thought of him and then more of what had happened, covering the history of her and Mr Darcy prior to the proposal, as it gave a fuller picture of how he acted, and reiterated her grievances from the proposal itself.

Elizabeth talked about how she had been convinced she knew how he would act, but after learning of how he treated Mrs Younge and Mr Wickham, she now held conflicting views on the gentleman, such that she was more confused as ever. It was while trying to resolve this confusion, and how this parlour had, at the time reminded her of him, that she had left and had wandered down to the end of the pier, as it seemed the place where she was least likely to be disturbed. Charlotte quipped 'only because no one else would have been silly enough to go there', to which Elizabeth could only glare in reply.

But as Elizabeth explained, that was how, deep in thought, she did not realise how wet she was getting, and it was the rain's arrival that made her aware she should be getting home. She apologised, and promised that she'd not do it again, adding it was no longer likely, as the parlour no longer caused her to feel uncomfortable as it had. Charlotte extracted a promise that if she ever needed time to think, she must take her with her. Charlotte in turn promised if that was the case, she would be as silent as a mouse and would give Lizzie as much time as she needed.

As they continued this discussion through dinner (thankfully Mrs Carter remained in bed, giving them the necessary privacy) and afterwards, Elizabeth was able to articulate a number of other things that troubled her. While Charlotte did not know more than what Elizabeth had told her, she proved to be a very good sounding board, and suggested several alternative scenarios that might explain his behaviour. This was something Elizabeth had not considered worth doing before, convinced as she was that she knew his motivations to the letter. Elizabeth listen, but sometimes it appeared that Charlotte was not arguing from a logical point of view but was just making excuses for Mr Darcy, and so she decided, for some things, in the end, Charlotte could hardly be considered unbiased. Particularly in regard to Mr Darcy's immorality, especially given latest information from Agnes, which clearly pushed him back towards the 'bad Mr Darcy' camp. While they argued a little over some of these points, Elizabeth was pleased that Charlotte was not dogmatic enough to try to force any issue, and each part of the conversation concluded without rancour.

It was about half an hour after their long conversation had finished, with both of them sitting absorbed in their own work, that Elizabeth noticed Charlotte had put down hers and turned towards her.

"Lizzie?"

Elizabeth sensed from her tone and the way she had changed position, Charlotte was about to say something that she wouldn't like.

"Yes." Elizabeth replied equally cagily.

"Um... Did you... No, can you... Um."

"What is it?" Elizabeth said testily.

"Please don't get upset with what I am about to say. Promise."

Now Elizabeth just wanted to know what this horrible thing would be. And the only way to do it was to promise, however reluctantly. "I promise."

"Ah... Remember before, you know... before your mother spoiled it, we had written to your aunt?"

"Yes?"

"What were we asking Mrs Gardener?"

"You obviously remember. I know I was going to go to London for a while, to have Amy-Jane."

"Yes, that is right, but what was to happen next?"

"Next?"

"Yes, afterward. You know, with your child, which we didn't know was going to be Amy-Jane. What had been decided as what to do about your baby."

"I don't know, I can't remember. Does it matter?"

"No, not now. But I am just reminding you, that at the time the plan was for you to have the baby, but either Mrs Gardener or Mrs Carmichael to raise the child as their own."

"No, I'd never would have agreed to that!"

"Sorry Lizzie, but you did. At the time it was the most prudent thing to do."

"I don't think so. I really don't. Anyway it doesn't matter."

"It does and it doesn't. It doesn't now, because of what did happen, but the reason I bought it up was because one of the things you were very angry with Mr Darcy about was his insistence of giving Amy-Jane away. No, don't look at me like that… Can you look at it from his point of view? I think he was thinking of you, and trying in his poor way to make it easier."

"But he didn't bother to ask if that is what I wanted, he just demanded it."

"Yes, and you have every right to be angry about that. But be angry for the right reasons. That is because he didn't care enough to ask you what you wanted or even try to understand your feelings. Actually that and the demand to erase your past was just the outcome of failure to understand you. But it comes from his ignorance and pride, I don't think it was deliberate or malicious."

"Are you sure? It seemed like it was at the time."

"Come now. Can you believe that a gentleman, at the beginning of an offer of marriage, however poorly done, to deliberately act maliciously? Can you?"

Elizabeth was reluctant to admit it, even to herself, but Charlotte had made a very good point, so had to agree, "No I suppose not."

"There you see. Ignorance and pride. That was his failing."

"Yes, I accept your point, but vanity, pride and ignorance are all still sins."

"That they are Lizzie, that they are."

"What do you mean by that?" Elizabeth was certain that was specifically directed at her.

"Nothing. Just... agreeing with you." She saw Charlotte putting on the face of innocence.

"Hmmph." Elizabeth let this conversation die, wondering all the while what was that final point Charlotte had been trying to make.

* * *

><p>The next day, Charlotte and her went next door to collect her daughter back. Once home, and shown her present, Amy-Jane was as thrilled with the new doll as Elizabeth had imagined she would be. Seeing her daughters rapturous expression, made Elizabeth realise how much she would be willing to put up with to see that on her daughters face more often. Later, while having lunch, Charlotte suggested that they visit the Darcy household later today, even if only for Amy-Jane to say thank you for her present. Elizabeth had hoped to delay it a day or two, but she agreed as it had to be done, it was best done soonest. So it was only an hour after lunch that they were sitting in the front parlour, Amy-Jane first thanked Richard for, and then showed off her new doll and Georgiana showed off a new piano piece she had mastered.<p>

Without knowing how it happened, Elizabeth ended up sitting with only Richard for company, while Charlotte played with Amy-Jane some distance away.

"You must allow me to say thank you for sending Agnes to assist Charlotte. I am sure I recovered faster due to Agnes's tyranny." Elizabeth smiled to show there were no hard feelings in her statement.

"So now you know what I had to put up with when you weren't there. And Darcy was no help. The number of times I pleaded for him to intervene, but he backed his maid over his cousin. Can you believe it? Kept saying it was for my own good."

"I can believe it. I am sure he took great pleasure at your discomfort."

"Well I am certain he didn't. Speaking of which did you find out what happened to Mrs Younge?"

"Yes I did. I have to admit that came as a complete surprise."

"I did tell you that you had it wrong. Can you remember what else I said at the time?"

"That a measure of a man is how he treats those that trespass against him?"

"Yes, that was it. So what did you learn about Darcy then?"

"I am still very puzzled, he appears to have treated Mrs Younge who stole from him and even Mr Wickham who shot you, and all of his own servants with a great deal of consideration. But then there is the other side of him, I apologise if I offend in advance, but he has acted immorally in my presence and others report similar, which must also come from their experience of him. It is like there are two versions. I cannot reconcile them both."

"Can you not? I suspect it is because while you think you know of his immorality, it cannot be correct. As I've said before Darcy would no sooner have a mistress than I'd defect to the French. Look, I am not doubting your reports, it is just I've known him since he was born, and while he had as many opportunities in that regard as that despicable Wickham, but while Wickham succumbed to every temptation, Darcy never did, and always actively tried to prevent it. If you don't mind me asking whatever gave you this impression, as I can't see any situation that could lead to it?"

Elizabeth looked around, but they were out of earshot of everyone. Should she tell Richard? From what he had said, he'd defend his cousin to the end, but could she believe him? Would he tell the unvarnished truth? This must of shown on her face as Richard then continued, "Look I know Darcy can be a right idiot at times, I'm sure we both could tell the other stories that would either shock or amuse, but don't worry, I don't wear rose coloured spectacles where he is concerned, I can guarantee that, so out with it. You'll learn more than you think, you know."

Elizabeth wasn't sure, Richard's attitude just had changed, he seemed to gather an aura of seriousness around him. But this was her chance to finally learn enough to make a decision about Mr Darcy, and that done, hopefully to be able to put this obsession behind her and get on with life.

"Sure. The truth, total honest to God truth?"

"Certainly. Ask any question on your mind and I will answer truthfully as well as I possibly can. I would also like the opportunity to ask questions and get an honest answer. Can you do that?

"Of course I can. But I really don't know where to start."

"How about starting at the beginning, when did you first think he could be immoral, or at least have immoral tendencies?"

"It was at our very first meeting I learnt of his attitude to me and woman he thought were like me. He practically dragged Georgiana away when he found out. He knows all about fallen women, probably from experience."

"Yes, yes he does." Hearing that Elizabeth felt a moment of vindication before it was dashed as Richard continued. "Unfortunately my brother has ruined more than one maid. It has been Darcy that rescued them, finding them positions where their reputation was not known or sending them back to Pemberley to enter service there. For at least one that ended up with a child, he managed to find her a husband so the child would not grow up illegitimate. So yes, he does knows all about those sorts of women."

"But if he cares for them, why was he so nasty to me?" Thinking of how she was treated back then still had the power to cause pain.

"I suspect it was the shock of not knowing beforehand, I am sure he must have calmed down later and acted more rationally. Did he prevent Georgiana from seeing you once he knew?"

"I don't know, maybe it was her desire to see me that meant she argued for it, or went against his desires."

"I don't think so. If Darcy told Georgiana to sever the connection, do you honestly think that she would continue in light of it being forbidden?"

"No. I suppose she wouldn't. But that is not all, there was your sister. I overheard her tell her friend that Darcy had a mistress."

"That he had and she had proof, or that she was certain he had one?"

"What's the difference? Does it matter, your sister should know."

" I sincerely doubt Sophie knows anything other than rumour and slander. So, I ask again, did my sister confirm it or assert it?"

Elizabeth thought back on what she had overheard. Now she was not so sure. "But they said that he was thinking of a woman, not the friend, so if not a mistress, then who? It is not like he's engaged."

"Who indeed? So it goes back that far does it? Sophie's not usually that perceptive. Doesn't matter… Where was I… That's right, my sister. Look, Sophie's been trying to marry Darcy off for years, no not for herself, she's aiming for Duchess or Marques at very least, but to a number of her friends. Miss Trent, the one that came to Ramsgate, is just the latest one. I'm sure that what either of them said could only be the result of sour grapes, given how little attention he paid her or her protégée. They left in a real huff, much to our relief, after only a few weeks. Had Darcy showed any inclination we'd have never been quit of them."

"Are you sure? I remember her being so certain."

"Of course I'm sure. She probably thinks all gentlemen are like my brother, as he's the closest example they have. It doesn't help that too many of the gentlemen of the ton are similar, well at least the ones in London are, and can be very blatant about it. So she's got any number of other examples to go off as well. But, no Darcy doesn't have a mistress and never will. Whoever marries him will never have that to worry about."

"Oh." It was almost annoying how Richard had managed to skewer that bit of information, and what else she knew of Lady Sophie and friend, what he said rang true. And that last bit, Elizabeth thought he must he must know by now that Darcy proposed, but given Darcy had not said anything about Amy-Jane, maybe he didn't, so she decided she'd not be the one to tell him.

Richard then chose to dig a bit further by asking, "That can't be all of it though, you must have other situations to relate."

"Yes, yes I do. Who is Lisa's father?"

"Lisa?"

"Her mother is Hannah Elliot. She's a maid at Darcy house, Lisa is her daughter. He even remembered the baby's birthday. Surely that means he was involved somehow. Doesn't it?"

"He was involved, but not as you think. Darcy found out about my brother's latest conquest. He has a habit of seducing maids, some are willing, but he prefers if they are not quite so eager… Oh sorry… I should not have mentioned it."

"Doesn't matter as you know I know of your brother's tendencies rather too well."

"I know, but it was thoughtless of me to bring it up. Anyway when Darcy found out that Helen,"

Elizabeth had to correct him. "Hannah, her name is Hannah."

"Did you know you are just like Darcy when you do that? He can't stand things being incorrect either. Still Hannah, yes Darcy found out about her from the servants. I suppose you know of the servant's grapevine? Yes, I suppose you do. Anyway, Darcy has the Darcy House servants listen out for the fate of any of Summerville's cast offs, and Hannah was one who lost her position as a result. So while he takes a personal interest, which is just his way, I am sure he knows the name of every servant, no, Lisa is not his, although she is a cousin of sorts. Actually, come to think of it, Lisa and Amy-Jane are half-sisters."

Elizabeth had never considered that Amy-Jane could have half siblings, but now that Richard mentioned it, it was entirely likely that her daughter would not be the only child the Viscount conceived. So, reluctantly she asked the obvious question. "How many children are there?"

Richard took some time to answer. "To the best of my knowledge, there are four or five. Let me think, there is the daughter of maid that married a Darcy tenant near Pemberley, two more girls each to a maid now at Pemberley and then Lisa in London and now Amy-Jane. So that is," he counted them out on his fingers, "five in total. That is, including Amy-Jane."

"All girls?"

"Now I come to think of it, yes all girls. Oh, no, that's not right, there was the one boy, but unfortunately Darcy could not find the mother in time. The child had already died of a fever, and the mother only survived another few days after Darcy finally found her and bought her back to Darcy House. I'm sure she had given up the will to live, poor dear. She was the first Darcy learned of and tried to rescue. Since then he thinks he's found most of them. You should see how he rages when he learns of another. Summerville's been banned from his house since that woman died. Actually, apart from a very few family occasions, and even then not often, they generally keep well away from each other."

Thankfully Richard chose to push no further, and they lapsed into silence. Before long Charlotte came over and the conversation turned to more general things. As Elizabeth had much to think about, she contributed little.

* * *

><p>That evening Elizabeth thought of all she had learned today. By the time night fell she felt very ashamed of how she had misjudged Mr Darcy. She had assumed the worse on of him in just about every situation, based entirely on hearsay and supposition. Had her experience with that one gentleman blighted her view of all gentlemen since? It certainly seemed to be the case. In the course of a few days Mr Darcy had gone from one of the nastiest, immoral gentlemen she knew to quite the opposite. And the only person she could blame for getting it completely wrong was herself, and that could only possibly come down to her own pride. That he had insulted her, thus upsetting her vanity on their first meeting was true, but as she sat and thought through all of the following encounters, the long talks at Richard's bedside, she could not point to anything that indicated immoral activity or even lascivious comments on his part. Yet because of that first encounter she deliberately chose the worst interpretation of each situation every time. Even the incident in the inn on the way to London could have an innocent explanation, Charlotte even suggested a possibility. Given what she now understood of the temperament of the man in question, this innocent explanation or something like it was far more likely to be the case.<p>

It was humbling to realise how her pride in her own discernment had lead her astray. She had always thought she saw things objectively, rationally, not subject to the petty biases that others displayed, and had even assumed Charlotte had. But here, the facts held up to her like a mirror, her own prejudice and ignorance was plain as the nose on her face. One encounter those years ago had coloured her view as much as anyone she knew. It was funny that, had she been fully in love with Mr Darcy, she could not have been as blind as she was in her hatred. And yet he professed his love for her, equally blind as she was. The irony of the situation, one blinded by an ignorant love, the other by equally ignorant hatred, had to be acknowledged.

At that point she really did wonder if her refusing him was a sensible decision after all. Maybe she should have said yes. Elizabeth knew she could not leave it at that. Ever since she was a child she had to turn over each rock and look underneath, regardless of how scary what could be there. And this was no different. She needed think a good deal more regarding how she felt about Mr Darcy as her feelings were still somewhat ambivalent, and there were still several unresolved issues about his behaviour to consider, as well. But this time, remembering her promise to Charlotte, she would not stand out in the weather to do so!

And on that thought she drifted off to sleep.


	46. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 11

**I hope this is a treat for you all - I was able to finish last week's chapter before the weekend, so got a head start on this latest one, and had a few spare evenings (that doesn't happen that often now). So this next chapter is finished.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 11<strong>

Darcy was most of the way home when he realised he could not just walk in the front door as he had intended, if he did Steele would probably have an apoplexy. So to prevent having to replace a perfectly good butler at this junction in time, Darcy hired a Hackney Cab and had the driver deliver him around the back of Darcy House. Steele was waiting for him at the back door, his frown of disapproval did nothing to dampen Darcy ebullient mood.

"Good afternoon Steele!"

"Welcome back, sir. I trust you were successful?"

"I'm sure you hope so, I doubt you'd be too happy to allow me out another time like this."

"I don't believe I have any say in the matter sir." Said Steele, as he directed his master through the door and up the servant's stairs.

"No I suppose you don't. Still, you'll be please to know I was successful. Do thank your nephew, he was very helpful, and even knew when to give up, when I insisted on going alone."

"Very well sir. I shall pass your thanks on to him."

"Please do."

Darcy noticed that Steele had managed to pass him on the narrow stairs and was looking out of the door to the first floor hallway before, happy with what he saw, he allowed Darcy to exit after him. Darcy had to stride quite quickly to keep up with Steele's scurrying progress towards his apartments.

"Here we are sir."

"Thank you Steele. By the way, how long have the servants been forbidden to be on this floor?"

"Since my nephew returned earlier today sir."

"Well best I get out of this outfit to allow them to carry out the duties without further delay. I don't want them to have to work too late on my account."

"No need sir. I'll take that sir. I arranged with Mrs Taylor to change the schedule so it was all done either early this morning or as soon as you left."

"Good lord Steele, do you think of everything?"

"I certainly try to sir. Turn around, please sir."

"Thank you Steele. What a relief to have that lot off. How can they stand to wear it?"

"I suppose they don't have a choice sir."

"No I suppose not. Anyway, do whatever you wish with that lot. Do you think your nephew would fit them?"

"No, sir. I doubt he would. I think it would be best if I burn them."

"You would. Very well Steele, do what you want with them."

Steele's gratitude was very evident. "Very good sir!" as he first helped Darcy into his coat before bundling up the discarded clothing.

"Any chance of some cold meat and cheese?"

"I will have a selection in the dining room for you sir."

"Nothing elaborate, please. Just a few bits of sliced beef, cheese and some bread. Oh, and in the library not the dining room."

"Very well. Give it about 10 minutes, sir."

"Certainly." Darcy headed over to his dresser to retrieve a cravat as his butler let himself out.

* * *

><p>"Steele?" Asked Darcy as his butler returned to clear away the few plates.<p>

"Yes sir?"

"Can you find out from Hatfield how the Dowager Countess is doing? I'd write myself, but she'll only fob me off with platitudes."

"Certainly sir. I'll send Dowling with a note from me personally. Hatfield will provide the truth to me sir."

"Speaking of Dowling. How is he doing?"

"He still has a few rough edges, but coming along well. The main cause for concern is how the maids are competing for his attention. This has caused some discord below stairs. Mind you he is not encouraging them, so there is not really anything he needs to do to correct his behaviour."

This report didn't surprise Darcy. Dowling's good looks was almost a reason for not taking him on, but he came with a very good reference. Darcy had been prepared to take that risk, as he thought Dowling may have what it takes to eventually take over from Steele. Anyway Steele and Mrs Taylor will have it under control. But plain curiosity made him ask, "So are any of the maids likely to land him?"

"I think Hannah Ellish may have a chance. Although that is only in my estimation, sir."

"She does, does she? Actually, that would be a very good outcome. Can you and Mrs Taylor subtly encourage it? If it seems likely let me know. I will talk to Dowling myself, I am thinking of contributing something in the way of a dowry for Hannah."

"Very good sir. Best if I talk to him soon about the Viscount. Can't have him think that you had anything to do with Lisa other than rescuing her mother."

"I leave it in your capable hands Steele."

"Certainly. Shall I be going, sir?"

"Yes… No wait." Darcy turned and scribbled a note and handed it to Steele. "Get Dowling to drop into Bingley's residence on the way, as there is this note for Adams."

"Certainly. Is that all sir?"

"Yes, yes that's all. Let me know as soon as you hear from Hatfield. I'll be here all afternoon." Said Darcy gesturing to the pile of correspondence he'd neglected to go 'a detecting' that morning. Steele nodded and left the library, shutting the doors behind him while Darcy turned back to the pile of letters and opened the first of them.

Darcy had got through most of his mail when he heard the knock on the library door, and said over his shoulder, "Come in Steele." Darcy turned to face as soon as he finished his sentence.

"There is a reply from Adams, sir."

"Thank you. I'll look at it later. More importantly, what did Hatfield say?"

"The Dowager Countess is not well, but he says there is no reason for concern, his mistress already recovering. He said he'd advise us as soon as she would accept for family visitors, which he said could be a soon as the day after tomorrow."

"That is good news. Thank you Steele."

"No trouble at all sir. Some tea? Or maybe a brandy sir?"

"No thank you Steele. Wait a moment, I'll just see what Adams says." Darcy then opened his note and read. Ah, good thought Darcy, Adams was available all day tomorrow. Darcy replied that he would like to visit as early as mid-morning tomorrow, and would do so unless Adams said otherwise.

"Here, can you send this around to Adams."

"Certainly. Anything else sir?"

"No that will be all. Oh, tell the cook that I'll take dinner at 7 pm."

"Very good. Dinner at 7 it is sir."

As Steele let himself out, Darcy turned back to his remaining correspondence.

* * *

><p>As Darcy was getting ready for his appointment with Adams, hoping that Adams could arrange a meeting with Mr Gardener, he realised that Bingley was in the process of selling off all of his London investments, as a result of his disappointment over Jane. And that was likely to mean Bingley was making business decisions from an emotional point of view, which was hardly likely to give the best outcome, to Charles's eventual detriment. That Darcy was, in part, culpable in the series of events that lead to this decision did not sit well with him, and he felt the sharp prick of conscience rather too much for his liking. Darcy continued to worry over this while Steele finished brushing down his coat and even while waiting for a Hackney Cab. It was, as he was getting into it, the the realisation dawned. There was an easy solution. All he had to do was buy the investments Bingley was selling! He had been in the process of liquidating some of his own periphery holdings, given that Georgiana would be marrying in the not too distant future, and better to slowly sell to get the best price than have to sell in a hurry or worse, have to go into debt, to fund her 30,000 pound dowry.<p>

So feeling much happier with himself, Darcy went to his meeting with Adams at the Bingley London residence, hoping the early hour pre-empted Caroline waking, as he was in no mood to have her think he was visiting her. So in this light, he did not even leave a calling card as was customary in the hall tray, but showed himself into the office where Bingley, and now Adams was situated.

"Good morning Adams."

"Good morning Mr Darcy."

"I hope I am not too early for you?"

"Not at all Mr Darcy. What can I do for you sir? Do you want tea? Or something stronger?"

"No bother, can we get right to business?"

"Certainly, I have nothing that needs my immediate attention."

"Good, good. I understand Bingley is in the process of quitting his London investments."

"That he is, Mr Darcy. Mr Bingley is freeing up money for some new investments in Yorkshire."

"Let's not beat about the bush Adams, you and I both know that this change is entirely due to certain recent occurrence here in London, and pre-dates any investments in Yorkshire. Bingley told me as much himself by letter. The question is, is this the most prudent thing to be doing?"

"I am doing my best to get the best price for the investments, but it is difficult to sell a cargo while it is still on the water."

"I understand what you are saying, and I intend to help, if only to find buyers for what he hasn't sold as yet. I am sure that I have the contacts to do that, and at better prices than you could get."

"I will speak with complete honesty, if you will Mr Darcy. All these buyers are you are they not?"

"Yes, they will all be me. I hope to visit Charles soon and persuade him to sell only what is prudent, leaving the rest to fully realise their value as the cargo arrives and is sold in a proper manner, not via this unsightly rushed sale. And if I cannot change his mind quickly I hope that by buying the investments now, if I can persuade him later to act in a more rational manner, then I can sell them back to him for the price I paid. But to do so, can we continue the polite fiction that they are a number of different buyers? That way we can delay the sale of those investments that don't need to be sold immediately while still providing him the capital he needs for his Yorkshire activities. And if he does not wish to buy them back I get to invest in some solid investments, as I trust they are, knowing Bingley's business acumen. My own investments could do with diversifying. Do you think he'd appreciate me as a silent partner in his new venture? I am thinking that there could be some future in moving to having some manufacturing investments."

"To answer your first question, I am happy to go along with your scheme, if you don't mind me managing how the delay is done. I have also been concerned that quitting some of these investments right now will only realise a fraction of their value. I have been holding out on the basis that the closer the ships are to arriving to London the better the price, but Mr Bingley is adamant that he no longer wants any London investments. However, I do suggest that if you do sell them back it is only fair for you to ask for a slightly higher price to meet at least the return of government bonds. But it will help if you are able to provide some funds fairly soon."

"I can do that Adams, would a week be soon enough?

"That would be very helpful. Now for your second question, I would certainly recommend looking into manufacturing investments, although I caution that to make it pay, it is a longer term thing, you will not get much of a return in the first few years, but then on, if the business is managed properly, it will outperform all but the luckiest of the more speculative investments. But best to approach Mr Bingley directly once you are in Leeds for that I think."

"Thank you for the advice Adams, so what sort of figures are we talking about…" Darcy was surprised at the extent of Bingley's London investments, and marvelled at how his friends was able to negotiate deals where he had a greater share of the profit than the risk he was taking personally would warrant. The amount needed in the short term would leave Darcy with very little liquidity, and, depending on how quickly he could get Bingley to see sense, he might have to delay several of the more expensive home farm improvements until next year.

The discussion became very detailed into each investment, its value now, which was an esoteric calculation based on the likely eventual value and the risks inherent to that investment. At the end of the day, Darcy and Adams had thrashed out an agreed programme of payments and pretend negotiating positions to propose to Bingley to extend the sale to the point where Bingley would be able to get the best price at a later date for the more speculative investments that Adams felt were not compatible with Darcy's goals or need for more long term investments.

Darcy was impressed with how intelligent and prudent Adams' decisions and advice were, and how similarly they thought in many things. It was a lesson in how he had underestimated Bingley's man of business, both professionally and personally – Darcy remembered that discussion he had with Charles regarding the difficulty of friendship with Adams, and he felt a little ashamed at how he had dismissed Adams as being someone not worth developing a friendship with because of his origins.

Once the first part of the day had been concluded, Darcy got to the other reason for visiting. Picking up the contract for a possible joint venture involving Mr Gardner, that Bingley had started to pursue but had not finalised, Darcy turned to Adams and expressed interest in this particular investment. He then proceeded to ask a number of questions that he hoped Adams would not be able to answer. Unfortunately Adams was better informed than Darcy had hoped, and he had to fall back on an outright request for Adams to introduce him to Mr Gardner, if that was possible. Adams said he would be happy to help as long as Mr Bingley was fine with Darcy carrying on what he had started. Darcy said as long as Bingley allowed it, could Adams proceed, but done anonymously at first, as he did not want any of his dealings to become common knowledge, as it might prompt unwanted speculation of his financial position. Adams agreed, if that was possible, as he explained Mr Gardener was known to be scrupulously honest, and would be concerned about an investor that did not want his name to be known. Darcy said, in that case, can he at least try, but use his name if that was necessary.

Both bits of business done, Darcy had intended to go off to his club alone once finished, but he had so enjoyed discussion over today that instead he asked Adams if he wanted accompany him to dinner instead. It took some persuasion to get a reluctant Adams to agree to it, but after Darcy pointed out that this would give him the opportunity to meet potential buyers, he agreed. So, while a little of that evening was spent discussing business or introducing Adams to others that might be interested in investing, most of the time was spent in informal, personal conversation and pleasant general discourse that went far into the night, as it seemed neither were in the mood for the evening to end.

So it was in the wee small hours of the night, that Darcy, after dropping Adams off at the Bingleys, realised that he had been very foolish not to consider men like Adams as potential friends, seeing them only as a better class of servant. Somehow, Darcy knew this night had been the start of another friendship that would last a lifetime, just like Bingley, and Darcy knew he had too few friends like that. So this was something else that he had Elizabeth to thank for. Had she not refused him, he would have almost certainly gone through life completely missing out on friendship with people he had previously thought unsuitable. As he got ready for bed he remembered the conversations he had with Bingley, where he had dismissed the possibility of friendship with Mr Gardener, even though Bingley had spoken very highly of him. Now he was rather eager to meet Mr Gardener, anticipating a similar pleasant surprise as this evening with Adams

* * *

><p>The following morning, while in the tedious process of answering his many invitations, the vast majority of the events he would not be attending, Darcy's thought again of the revelation of last night. With his new awareness, Darcy recognised he'd been too critical of others, missing out on potential friendships through his pride and arrogance, looking first to see if they were suitable before ever considering whether they were worth knowing, which left him with a very truncated list of friends.<p>

Now he thought of it, there was that pair of brothers, friends and business partners of Bingley that he had met a few times, and rather reluctantly, too stiff by half was his problem at the time, enjoyed their company, but never bothered to seek them out himself. What were their names? Darcy felt a bit foolish as their name vanished like snow midsummer, leaving him staring off into space, it on sitting the tip of his tongue but no closer to being uttered. As with every time he tried to force a memory nothing came, so Darcy got up and fetched a brandy to distract himself.

As he sat back down, it came to him. Grant! That was it! John and Peter? no, John and Paul Grant. Darcy wondered if he could break enough from tradition to seek them out on his own and introduce himself? No that was going one step too far, even with his new liberal outlook. Still, he'll get Charles back to London somehow before long, and would get his chance then.

This led to thought of the few people Darcy was close to during his university years at Trinity Hall in Cambridge. There was Paul Tranter, but he joined up after leaving, to Darcy's annoyance at the time, something Darcy then regretted later as Paul lost his life leading his company during the Walcheren Expedition, having been no reconciliation to their estrangement brought about their harsh words to each other at the time. Was it worth trying to get back in touch with George Pederson or Samuel Stubbs? Probably not, he was sure he'd seen both recently, both heavy in their cups, having joined the set of idle heirs, living from one quarterly allowance to another, with nothing to do than to wait for their father to pass away. He doubted they had anything in common any longer.

But memories those two bought back memories of others that he'd forgotten from the Debating Team at Trinity Hall. Isaac Featherstone, or as he would be now, Reverend Featherstone, and Henry Whyte, although now he was Baron Trentham. Both had married 'unsuitably' and Darcy had followed convention and severed the connection, first when Isaac married one of his parishioners, who was the natural daughter of an unknown gentleman (effectively a grown up Amy-Jane, mused Darcy, oh the irony) and again a little later when Henry caused a huge scandal by marrying his mistress within a month of his assuming the title of Baron. Darcy wondered how they were getting on?

Noticing he'd ceased answering any mail for some time, Darcy guiltily returned to finish answering the remaining before picking up his brandy glass and continuing to reminisce. Looking back, Darcy realised how much he'd enjoyed debating and discussing all and sundry with both of them. They both held controversial views, but argued from a point of rational thought and logic. At the time of entering university Darcy was not prepared to entertain the possibility of other points of view than the standard orthodoxy, but they both showed him that blindly following any convention was folly in the extreme, unless you agreed with the existing rules from a process of rational consideration of that view from first principles. It was these debates that led Darcy to become far more liberal than many of his contemporaries. The argument he had with Richard regarding Mrs Younge the most recent case of Darcy following his principles. Principles that owed a great deal to both of Isaac and Henry's tutelage.

Thinking on the reasons Darcy severed ties with either of them, especially considering his own actions in light of what they had taught him, Darcy felt heartily ashamed of his actions. He could only think that at the time, with his father so recently deceased, the problem with Aunt Catherine regarding Georgiana and feeling very out of sorts as a very young man compared to his contemporaries in Derbyshire, he acted in the socially acceptable way, regardless of what his principles would have had him act, had he thought it through properly. But, Darcy thought, all this reminiscing is well and good, but it was nothing if he did not do anything about his new found sense of purpose. He realised he had another standard to act on now, which was that passage from 1 Corinthians 13 to guide him, that included the truism 'Love is not puffed up.'

Darcy stood and walked to the bookcase. laying his hands on the most recent edition of Debrett's Peerage, he quickly found the entry for Trentham. Henry's estate was north and east of Stroud, up towards the Welsh border. No listing of a London residence. Damn! There was little chance he'd be in Town where it would be made obvious by the ton he, and especially his wife, was not wanted. The Featherstone's were not listed, but that didn't surprise Darcy, as Isaac certainly made no pretensions of nobility. Maybe a clerk in the court of the Bishop of London would know which parish Reverend Featherstone served? Certainly worth a try.

So the rest of the day was spent writing two letters. The first was easy, as it was just a request to the Bishop of London for Featherstone's directions. But the second, a missive that aimed to restore the breach between him and Henry, which Darcy now recognised as entirely of his own making,. After many considered and carefully crafted attempts that left him without producing anything worth sending, Darcy, ripped up yet another attempt, and threw caution to the wind. This time he just wrote from the heart, pouring out his plea for forgiveness and understanding, and with it a request to restore their friendship, as one continuous flow of words, which ended up covering two pages.

Sitting back as the sun sat low in the sky, streaming through the east windows, Darcy read this last version. It was a long way from his usual polished and considered correspondence, but this one was worth sending because of that rawness, rather than in spite of it. Deciding it best to send it before his courage failed him, Darcy sealed it, addressed the front and summoned a footman to post it before he had the chance to come up with some rational to avoid sending it.

Once the footman left Darcy sat back feeling very proud to have been able to act on his new found knowledge and sincerely hoped that Henry would see this letter as an olive branch, which was the spirit in which it had been written, than a sop to Darcy's conscience.

* * *

><p>The following day was spent again with Adams, who wanted to show him around the London docks and warehousing, where a number of the items Darcy will be investing in would be loaded or unloaded. Having only passed by at the periphery of the docks, never actually visited, Darcy found being in the middle of the frantic energy and barely controlled chaos fascinating. Darcy asked many questions, most of which Adams either knew the answer to, or knew someone in the general vicinity to ask. After this they retired again to Darcy's club where they had a very late lunch, or possibly a very early dinner, Darcy having, at Adams' recommendation, partaken in a midday meal of a hot(ish) pie of indeterminate meat, (Darcy hoped it was beef), which it was a lot better tasting than Darcy had been expecting.<p>

The time at the club was mostly spent talking about the economic situation, politics and the progress (or lack of it) in the war against Napoleon. Darcy found Adams better informed on politics than he was, something that surprised him, but Adams explained that the very foundation of any business could be made vastly profitable or immediately ruined by the passing of an Act of Parliament, something that had much less affected the income derived from estates, if only as most Members of Parliament were estate owners themselves, and thus protected their own. Darcy was astonished to learn how much trade still went on with the continent or the America's, something he thought would have ceased with the French Revolution and Napoleon's rise to power or the rebellion that lead to the United States, but apparently not. It was as if there were two worlds, one of politics and diplomacy and another of commerce and trade, that only barely overlapped. Darcy realised that he was very uninformed about the wider world, and the changes that had been happening while he was so very focussed in dealing, first with his father's passing and, then later, getting to grips with managing an estate as large as Pemberley. At least in one sphere, that of the war, Darcy did more than hold his own, but he did have the natural advantage of having a cousin in active service in Spain and Portugal for several years now. But Adams was not as uninformed in this as Darcy was in politics or trade due, as Adams explained, the war affected trade and this changed the price and demand for certain goods over others, so anyone in business could not ignore the progress of current military actions.

While Darcy did not always agree with Adams' political leanings, although there were fewer differences than he had thought there would be given their different backgrounds, he found he could not dismiss any of them outright as Adams was prepared to defend his own views. And his did so with rational and logical arguments, that had to be countered with equally well thought out counter arguments to support his own opinions. It was eye-opening how someone else, with equally keen a brain and insight, could come to a quite different opinion or solution, from knowing the same information. This day with Adams, which extended well into the evening again, reminded Darcy of back when he was a student, debating a point with Featherstone, Henry, Tranter or even Bingley, or indeed only recently, many of the conversations he had with Elizabeth.

In the end, neither man converted the other entirely to the other's opinion, but both, or at least Darcy though they had, went away with having moderated their original opinion based on the discussions they had. What was very pleasing was how, by mid-evening, what had started as a private discussion on crime and punishment grew to include a number of other of the club's members as a more general debate. And here, Darcy and Adams combined forces to debate with several very conservative gentlemen, supporters of the 'hang them high' variety, and Darcy thought they had presented more than credible argument. They didn't change their opponents' opinion, which was true (but in many ways, entirely expected) but, from what he saw, they won the debate in the eyes of the larger audience, although that was based on his own judgement of their reaction.

As they both left, Darcy wondered how much notice the other members would have taken of Adams had they known of his background, or had he not been with Darcy. This led Darcy to consider how much notice he would have paid only a few months ago. To be totally honest, not much was the rather humbling answer.

* * *

><p>A day later Darcy received a reply from the Bishop of London, that said they regretted to inform him that the direction for Reverend Featherstone was unknown to them. There was an addendum, in a different hand, thankfully, that this writer believed he had quit the church to join the Methodists.<p>

Damn! Thought Darcy. What now? The Methodists did not seem to have a central organisation that this sort of information could be requested from, or if it did, he did not know of it. He asked around at his club, but none of them knew who to contact either. Knowledge of alternatives to the recognised Church of England was not something most landowners bothered with. In the end Darcy did the only thing he could think of, and wrote to the Master of Trinity Hall, hoping that Isaac had stayed in contact with one or two of the fellows, and they would be able to pass on his direction. Darcy also realised that Trentham may know of it, so if this does not pan out, and he got a favourable reply from Henry, he'd be able to ask him instead. Both in any case it was out of his hands.

* * *

><p>It was only a few days later, but without a reply from either Trinity Hall or Lord Trentham, and more worryingly, nothing via Steele from Hatfield, that Darcy received with the morning mail, something that was good news. Adams had sent a letter attached to a parcel, with the letter reading:<p>

.

.

_Mr Darcy,_

_I trust this note finds you well. I apologise that I could not deliver this in person, but I will already left for the north by the time you get to read this, as Mr Bingley wished to discuss progress with me personally. While I hope that he is reconsidering his instructions to sell everything, I fear that he will more likely exhort me to quit them faster than the programme we determined to put to him, and to inform me that I am to accept lower returns to achieve this goal. Or at least that is my impression from reading between the lines of his letter requesting my presence in Leeds. I mention this only because this is likely to mean you will have to find greater funds in the short term, if a smaller amount overall, and this hopefully warning will give you time to arrange it. But I will at least argue for Mr Bingley to agree to the plan we proposed, as it makes good economic sense to do so, and his need for money cannot be that urgent. _

_You will be pleased to know that Mr Bingley has no issue with you following up with the Gardener proposal, and in fact said that there would be greater benefits for you both than he would have realised himself, given Derbyshire was a source of a lot of Mr Gardener's raw materials. Thus I have arranged a meeting for you with Mr Gardener at his warehouse for tomorrow afternoon. I apologise again that I will not be able to accompany you, but I have taken the liberty of forewarning him that he is to be visited by someone that wishes a joint venture with similar terms as the one that Mr Bingley had been in the process of arranging prior to moving north, so Mr Gardener will be prepared for your questions. I did manage to leave your name out of it, but I warn you, Mr Gardener was not pleased with the anonymity, so you may have to make your identity known very early on or you will find a very sceptical audience for your proposition._

_In the parcel you will find a number of documents that relate to the joint venture proposal. I have included several letters from Mr Gardener and copies of the letters sent by Mr Bingley as they explain further the intent of some of the clauses in the proposal documents themselves. However, I recommend you consult a legal opinion on the contract to explain the legal ramifications of some of the clauses, as Mr Bingley did when drawing up the proposal._

_.  
><em>

_Yours faithfully,_

_John Adams_

_.  
><em>

As he went to open the parcel, Darcy realised that he'd not had a letter from Charles since the one that laid out Bingley's state of mind over a week ago, even after Darcy had sent two more full letters in addition to the short note immediately after receiving Bingley's own letter. As with last time this was not yet a significant cause for concern, it was still worrying not to hear from him. Darcy debated whether to write another letter, but decided against it. If Bingley had not answered the last three, one more would make little or no difference. But he did make a point to remember to ask Adams' about his master when he returned. Decision made, Darcy turned to the packet of papers.

Trinity Hall was known for its teaching of law, and he had applied himself to his lessons while there with considerable diligence. But, as Darcy discovered, the law he had learned prepared him well for acting as the local magistrate or to understand the basis for resolving the legality associated with contract or property disputes, a lot of the contents of the proposal in front of him was something well beyond what he was able to comprehend. Getting out and reading the most appropriate of the legal text he kept from his university days didn't help.

Admitting defeat, Darcy bundled up the papers (but leaving the letters behind) and left to see if his own attorney would make time to see him at short notice.

Darcy only had to wait about quarter of an hour see Mr Henderson, the Darcy family lawyer, as he was let in as soon as the previous clients had left. After perusing the documents himself, Mr Henderson confessed they were beyond his usual legal practice for him to be able to make anything more than general comments, but suggested a colleague that might be more likely to understand these complex documents, and wrote out an introduction there and then.

Going to the new chambers, Darcy found that the attorney he needed to see was in court that day but would make time for him as first thing tomorrow morning if that was soon enough, and if not, they could send a clerk to get Mr Cornford to return to chambers as soon as the court was finished for the day. Darcy assured them that this was not necessary, tomorrow morning would be soon enough. As he walked down the stairs, Darcy did wonder what was in the letter of introduction to prompt such an extraordinary offer.

The meeting with Mr Cornford the next morning was enlightening, and certainly provided clarity on the ramifications or reasons for a number of clauses in the proposal. Feeling far more prepared than he had been after first reading the proposal, Darcy left the attorney to catch a Hackney Cab to Mr Gardener's warehouse.

* * *

><p>The Gardener warehouse was in amongst others of its kind, while not the largest on the street, it was far from the smallest either. As Darcy walked in the front door there was continuous activity around him, goods being unloaded off carts, with clerks carefully counting off the consignment at the same time. A pleasant young clerk greeted him with courtesy and took him straight upstairs once he announced he was here to see Mr Gardener.<p>

When Darcy was ushered into an upstairs office, his immediate thought was that he'd been taken to the office of the manager or a junior partner, although the proposal documents gave no hint of that type of management arrangement. But the man Darcy thought was surely too young to be the owner and proprietor of the business, he could not be more than five, maximum of ten years older than Darcy.

"Welcome to my business, I am Mr Edward Gardener." Said the man, confirming his identity and ownership in one go, while extending a hand. Darcy noticed the man appeared a little wary, so acted at once to ease what he assumed were his fears.

"Please to meet you Mr Gardener. I am Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley, Derbyshire. I apologise to come here under a cloak of anonymity, but I am in the process of moving investments made by my father to ones that I am more confident with personally, and do not wish my name to be bandied around, or questions asked regarding my financial situation. You must know how the gossip rags take a hint of something and blow it completely out of proportion. But it is not only me, I am concerned with, I have my sister's reputation to protect as well, as she will come out later this year."

"While I was not happy at first, now having met you, and knowing of you by reputation as well, I see no problem with us doing business. I understand that you are considering the same proposal Mr Bingley started via his man of business Adams. Can I ask how you came to know of it?"

Well, thought Darcy, there is no way of escaping the association so best make a clean breast of it, if Mr Gardener turned him down flat, at least he would know what he was dealing with and could try a different approach. "Mr Charles Bingley is a close friend of mine, and we have often discussed investments and my concern with those my father made, particularly those just before he passed away. This is just part of a realignment given my sister's impending adulthood and the likely marriage settlement. Given Bingley is residing in Leeds I approached his man of business in London instead to get a broader approach than our family attorney would consider. Your name and the proposal were highly recommended as meeting my needs by Adams. He assured me that it was a very good investment, but Bingley was not in a position to expand his London investments and was no longer pursuing it himself. So he suggested you could consider another investor instead, so I asked him to make the approach to you. I apologise again for the secrecy, but there I had no way of knowing if you would consider my piggybacking on someone else's work. Oh, one last thing, Bingley has given his express approval to me doing this, and suggests that there could be added value for both of us as a result, as he stated you get a good deal of your raw materials from Derbyshire. Is this true?

"So Mr Bingley knows of this?"

"Yes, definitely. Adams did not even contact you until Bingley had approved. Anyway, I am not one to go behind the back of a very good friend, however lucrative the possibility is."

"Good, I'm glad we've got that sorted. And to answer your question, yes, we source a great deal from Derbyshire, including the Pemberley estate. So, I take it that you've read…"

The discussion rapidly became focussed on the nitty-gritty of the proposal and its terms. That Darcy's estate was one of the larger producers in that part of Derbyshire, meant Darcy and Mr Gardener quickly understood each other's needs, and both saw possibilities to expand the proposal beyond the scope of what had been agreed to between Mr Gardener and Bingley. They both agreed in principle to the proposed investment, but Darcy wanted to make additions before signing, and Mr Gardener, was happy to do so as well. So the rest of the afternoon was spent of thrashing out this additional scope and the new or amended terms that Darcy would have his attorney draft up, and send over for Mr Gardener to look over and, request changes, as required.

That was not to say that the entire time was spent talking business. They took breaks occasionally, during the first of which, Mr Gardener showed Darcy around the warehouse and introduced him to a number of the key people. Another such break, he and Mr Gardener talked about their respective families. Darcy found Mr Gardener was remarkably well informed about the Darcy family, and said so, at which Mr Gardener had to confess that his wife was born and raised in Lambton, and her maiden name was Carter. At this point Darcy remembered he'd been told this already by the Lambton Rector, but as it had not seemed important at the time, had forgotten it.

After concluding this round of negotiations, Mr Gardener continued to entertain Darcy, as the conversation turned to more general topics, business opportunities, politics and the war. One thing they both discovered during this was how they shared the same dry sense of humour and a liking for sharp witticisms. Each did their best to twist the others words in this way or introduce puns or other wordplay, provoking a great deal of laughter at times. Darcy did wonder what sort of impression they were making on the staff, but Mr Gardener did not appear concerned in the least, so Darcy let it pass.

When the conversation turned to personal history, Darcy chose to fill in bits that Mr Gardener did not know, like his time at Trinity Hall, studying mainly law and philosophy, or life after his father died, while Mr Gardener related some of his own history; how his father was a country attorney, but as Mr Gardener explained, he always felt unsuitable to practice law, he was very pleased when his father's assistant married his eldest sister, thus allowing his father to bequeath the practice to his brother-in-law so it would still remain in the family, but give him the opportunity to make his own way in the world. So while his other older sister also married a local, the owner of a small estate, Mr Gardener took the little seed money his father could give him, and he used that to start the business he had built to this point over one and half decades. Mentally adding it up, Darcy put him at between 33 and 38 years of age, which was about what he'd guessed at first meeting. But know speaking with him, Darcy was impressed with his maturity and sense. It was, as Bingley had said Darcy would enjoy Mr Gardener's company and find much in common with him. Darcy was ashamed to think he had ever doubted Charles.

But caught up with the financial possibilities of this investment, Darcy had nearly forgotten the other reason for seeking out Mr Gardener. But as the conversation started to wane, a comment Mr Gardener made in passing about his niece living with them reminded Darcy of it.

"Sorry, I forgot to mention, caught up as we were with the first order of business, that I had another motive for seeking you out."

"And that was?" Suddenly Mr Gardener was looking very cagey again.

Darcy had to decide, mention Charles again? No best not to, as Mr Gardener was always a bit withdrawn when his friend's name came up. With some justification, if Elizabeth's version of events were to be believed, which Darcy had strong suspicions this was the case. No, go with how he had planned to approach it when he had though to call on Jane directly.

"I wished to be introduced to your niece, Miss Jane Bennet."

"You do, do you? Why?"

"Ah, as you are, no doubt, aware my sister is staying in Ramsgate, where she met Elizabeth Smith and a strong friendship has developed between them. And I assume you know Elizabeth Smith and I spent some time caring my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam when he was seriously injured until I could get my own servants to come from London to relieve provide care. Actually, both your niece and her friend Miss Lucas continue to assist with his care, something I am very grateful for."

"Yes, I know all that. What has this to do with my niece?"

"Sorry, I have to admit I did not how much you were told, I was just confirming it. So this request is born from the friendship that developed between my sister Georgiana Darcy and Elizabeth Smith."

"You were happy with this friendship?"

"I will admit, not much at first, and although I never forbade it, I did discourage it. But when my cousin was injured Elizabeth Smith was a god send to my sister, who has already been the subject of too much tragedy in her short life, but she knew just the right words to say, while I was left all at sea. So she already had my gratitude, before she then was went beyond anything I would have expected in assisting with my cousin's care in those fraught first few days."

"So you know of her circumstances?"

"Yes, and knowing her personally, I see as only something that has shaped her into the person she has become. One that I am happy to admit as a friend."

"That is an unusual position to take for a gentleman." Mr Gardener's eyes had narrowed.

"True. But I consider her one of the finest women of my acquaintance, with a fast mind, a keen intellect and with wider learning than many of the gentlemen I know. For example she is one of the few people I found that can best me at chess. That came as a real surprise, I can tell you."

"I know what you mean, she was able to beat me regularly by the time she was ten, so from that report I will not challenge you for a game, given you can hold your own against Lizzie." Mr Gardener now looked a little wistful, as he continued. "Actually the only person that could reliably beat her was her father, pity really."

Darcy wondered about that. He knew that Elizabeth and her father were fully estranged, this tended to suggest the Gardeners were also estranged from Elizabeth's parents as well. Darcy, not knowing the situation, decided it was probably best not to say anything.

Mr Gardener, in a more normal tone continued, "Still, all water under the bridge. But you have not said why you want to speak to Jane."

"Oh, haven't I? I'm sorry. It is just that as my sister is not out, she can hardly visit with the sister of her good friend once she returns to London on her own volition. And she knows so few ladies here. I have been remiss in cultivating friends with daughters, or nieces in this case, who are young ladies themselves. I do have a cousin that is out at the moment, but she is... let's just say I don't feel my cousin is that suitable."

"I see."

"So I hope that if you allow the introduction, Georgiana can come with me when I visit to allow her to make the acquaintance as well. After that I will leave it to the two of them to continue it or not. But if Miss Bennet is anything like her sister, I would be very pleased if the same level of friendship can develop there as well." Darcy had hoped he had done enough to convince Mr Gardener of his reasons, being that they were true but only secondary to his real reason.

"They are quite different in some ways, but I will leave it for you to judge. Do you have guests tonight? No? Eating alone?" Darcy nodded, "You are? No we can't have that, I take it you are not doing anything for dinner this evening?

"No my plans are not fixed. But only if it is no bother to your wife." Yes! thought Darcy, that was less difficult than I thought, although genuine compliments of a niece seemed to have done the trick, but what of what he said was untrue?

"My wife bothered with an extra guest? Don't be silly. She will be delighted to host someone from Derbyshire and talk of old acquaintances all night if you let her."

"Well in that case I accept with some anticipation."

"Not time like the present. Shall we be off Mr Darcy?"

"Why certainly. Just let me get my folio."

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><p>They walked to Wood Street which was only a few blocks away from the Gardener Warehouse. Maybe, thought Darcy, they could afford something better that Cheapside, and the finances he saw today indicated that, but the convenience of being so close to his work, particularly with young children was an important consideration for Mr Gardener. Then it struck him that it was very likely the Gardener's were not pretentious about having to live in the best area they could afford. The walk was pleasant, the air was still and although chilly, it was thankfully not raining. A rare occurrence during the English winter.<p>

Darcy followed Mr Gardener up the stairs, through the bright red door and into the front hall.

"Maddy." called out Mr Gardener as the footman removed his outerwear.

"Edward. You're home!" Came the reply as a pleasantly comely lady not too many years older than Darcy came out of a side room. He didn't think she had seen him as the footman removed his own outerwear, as her gaze was focussed entirely on what must be her husband, as she rushed over to him and they clasped hands. Darcy hoped that he could invoke that level of continued devotion after being married for the number of years as the Gardeners had.

"I have a real treat for you, dear." Said Mr Gardener to his wife.

"Oh, lovely! What is it?"

"I have bought home a fellow Derby-ite to join us for dinner." And Mr Gardener then made the introductions, before whispering something in his wife's ear to which she nodded and head back towards the rear of the house. No doubt to arrange an extra place at the table.

"Well, my niece is in the front parlour, with the boys. Please do excuse them, they are balls of energy at this age. When you have children of your own, you'll understand. Shall we?" And he gestured to the right. Darcy deferred to Mr Gardener and let him go through the door first, in anticipation of the reaction that occurred.

"Papa!" came two voices almost in unison, as Mr Gardener was rocked by two young lads enthusiastically rushing over to greet their father.

"And this one is Harry and that is James" Said the proud father, ruffling their hair. in turn.

While there was a moment while Mr Gardner could not get another word in edgewise as his two sons described some mishap with a toy sailboat, Darcy looked around the room. It was well appointed, the furniture better quality and well made than the area suggested. The artwork on the walls was mostly amateur, mostly of the children at various ages. The artist was very competent, capturing their likeness very well, but also some of the spirit as well.

As he looked around, his eyes fell on the only other inhabitant of the room, a lady that sat with a few toys still at her feet. She was blonde, tall, slender, with almost perfect features, sitting with her hands demurely in her lap and the most calm expression on her beautiful face. Surely not? This was Jane Bennet? If she was, and that was what Mr Gardener had said before entering, he was right in that they were quite different! At first impression Darcy would never have picked them as sisters, let alone cousins, but on longer examination there were a great deal of similarity in the shape of the eyes and general shape of the face. Darcy suddenly realised he must have been staring as she, Jane? lowered her eyes as she blushed strongly.

"Boys, boys. Quiet a moment. Jane dear, can I introduce Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mr Darcy my niece Miss Jane..."

But Mr Gardener was unable to say anything more as the lady in question burst into tears and suddenly rushed past Darcy out of the room.

They were all left standing there feeling very, very awkward.


	47. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 12

**No, you didn't get an email from fanfiction in error – there really is a new chapter. **

**While this should be unexpected, but as with the last chapter, I got a head start on this one as well. Since the weather hasn't been that great, and there's been nothing much on TV – Rugby season is almost over, the Cricket season hasn't started – but most importantly, it feels like I've got my 'mojo' back, so the words are flowing very easily, so I'll make the most of it. So here is another chapter finished.**

**Please enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Note: In my rush to get this out I did not check this chapter as well as I should, so this is now an updated version.<strong>

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><p><strong>Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 12<strong>

Over the last few days Elizabeth had felt listless and lacked her usual enthusiasm, but put this down to the after effects of her illness, but she wasn't able to shake it. But life returned as normal, Charlotte, Amy-Jane and Elizabeth continued their frequent visits to the Darcy house, and Georgiana, sometimes with, sometimes without the Colonel, returned their visits. But with Richard's recovery, the need to be there lessened considerably, so every visit was that of meeting with friends than going there as his carers.

Having spent much of the previous time with Richard, out of necessity as much as anything else, Elizabeth was keen to spend more time with Georgiana, and so made a deliberate effort to do so. This left Charlotte the task of entertaining him, which Elizabeth wasn't sure was the best outcome, but there was little she could about it. Maybe this frustration was also adding to her sense of unease.

Georgiana was a delight, and the time Elizabeth spent with this young lady lifted that sense of oppressive atmosphere that hung around most of the other times. One thing Elizabeth had discovered early in their acquaintance was that Georgiana had lived a very sheltered life, so much of what she talked about had some reference to the person she spent a great deal of time with, her brother Fitzwilliam, and always in the positive. This had, due to Elizabeth's antipathy to the him in the past, been a sore spot whenever she talked with her, and in the end meant Elizabeth had avoided it as often as was polite, to her shame. Georgiana, who worshiped her older brother, and now that Elizabeth was prepared to listen to what she told of him and what he did, was very justified in having that attitude. Darcy's only apparent faults towards his sister, if they could be considered faults, was to be more than generous in his praise and in particular many gifts, spoiling her somewhat (but Elizabeth supposed, a wealthy gentleman could indulge himself that way, although he seemed selfless in that regard, spending much on his sister but little on himself). He was also too protective of her, although that was a trait that Richard, her other guardian shared. In any case, that was what led to Georgiana's inability to see through Wickham insincerity and Mrs Younge's inappropriate encouragement.

So Elizabeth took it on herself to provide Georgiana with a basic education about men in general. She was aware how she needed to temper her distrust of the species as not to frighten Georgiana, but used her own experiences, and the things she saw to open Georgiana's eyes to the difference between a sincere compliment and insincere flattery, or to look for clues, like a gentleman not paying you their full attention, when they should, as indication of possible duplicity. But Elizabeth was sure to include Charlotte, when she was free, into their discussion, to give balance, as Charlotte had more pleasant examples to give. Either way Georgiana soaked up this advice like a sponge.

While doing this there was one time where Elizabeth and Charlotte almost argued in front of Georgiana. It all arose when the discussion turned to how to act if you like your suitor.

Elizabeth was first to make her view known, "Georgiana, however you feel, you must retain your composure so as not to be considered a flirt or impertinent."

"Yes, Lizzie. So stay composed. Be lady-like." Georgiana understood it.

But clearly Charlotte disagreed, to a reasonable degree, "Yes, be that as it may, Georgiana you do need to ensure that you don't conceal it, your suitor must know of your attachment to him, so flirt at least a little with him."

"Oh. So I should flirt?" Georgiana was starting to look confused.

"Charlotte! Don't confuse her. A lady's emotions need to be well under control. Unrestrained sensibility has led to the downfall of any number of ladies. Take my sister Jane. I know you have not met her Georgiana, but maybe you will get the chance. Anyway, Jane has a composed temper and a uniformly cheerful manner that even with the situation of our family, none of that can be attributed to her. Even recently, with an active suitor she would have, at all times behaved with decorum."

"But," rebutted Charlotte, "That may have been a good part of her recent problems. You see Georgiana, she had a suitor. You know him, your brother's friend, Mr Bingley, who was keen for a while, but just stopped his suit late last year, based on just a few bits of negative advice. If Mr Bingley knew his regard was being returned, he would have been confident enough to ignore whatever advice he received. But, as he did not, it is likely he was uncertain enough to act on advice contrary to his own heart."

"No, you can't believe that Jane contributed to Mr Bingley's desertion, you can't. He abandoned her not the other way around."

Georgiana had stopped contributing by now, and with wide eyes looked first at her and then at Charlotte as they banded words while the disagreement became a little headed.

"Yes he did. But the question is why? If he had regard for her, and she him, why would he do so? We can assume there must have been some regard on his part as he deliberately sought her out, so what happened? The simplest explanation is that Jane, in concealing her affection from the wider world, to prevent her from being an object of scorn, carried that skill over to conceal it from Mr Bingley as well. All of us start with a preference towards one person or another, but none - or should I say very few of us - have the strength of heart to continue without encouragement. It is my opinion that a woman should show more affection than she feels to a suitor that she thinks is worthy of her. Even though he may like her, it will not grow to anything more if she does not help it along."

"Charlotte you cannot be serious. How can she be certain he is worthy of her if he needs encouragement to do more than like her? If he likes her and she him, how can he not discover it?"

"An answer I would expect from someone who does not have brothers. As a woman with several, I have learned gentlemen can be very obtuse where woman are concerned, and see reciprocation of feelings that that are not there," that was accompanied by a knowing look at Elizabeth, "or not see it at all if it is in any way concealed. In many cases, he would need to see a lot of her to be able to see what her family would notice straight off. So with that in mind, she should make any preference known to him in a way that will not be misconstrued. Thus Jane should have done something to encourage Mr Bingley, and yet I am certain she did not."

"But he spent time with her, so he had every chance to discover Jane's regard. That he did not shows that he did not understand her or learn how she reveals her regard."

"But Lizzie, that can be the study of a lifetime. A woman, who desires the attentions of a suitor, should make the most of every opportunity to command his attention. Once she has secured him, she has the all time she needs to fall in love as much as she chooses."

"Listen, it is like you have Jane's design as just to get married, rather than to know her own heart towards him and learn enough of his character before taking the risk of marrying. What if she marries and is then unhappy? She should know beforehand and take a few months to decide, it is too much of a risk, not knowing his character to do so."

"And I am of the opinion she has as good a chance of happiness if she thinks he is worthy with only a short acquaintance as if she were able to study his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is mostly a matter of chance. Even if both parties are very well known to each other, I do not see how it increases their chance of felicity in the least. They always have their share of vexations. It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to marry."

"I cannot believe that is how you feel, it is not sound, and I am certain that you would not act in that manner."

"You obviously do not know me as well as you think, which I feel proves my point, as I have given Georgiana advice based on how I would act."

"What do you mean I do not know you well? I know you very well indeed. We've been friends for most of my life, and so I cannot believe you would marry a person mostly unknown to you. You are just saying that to make your point."

"Well, here you are wrong, Lizzie. I am certainly no longer a romantic, you know; I think I never was. All I ever asked was a comfortable home; and as long as my intended is a gentleman, with all the connotations that come with that state, and either with sufficient connections or being already in the position to provide me a comfortable situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness is as fair as any other that can boast on entering the marriage state."

"I know that romance is not your highest consideration but I didn't realise you have abandoned it all together. That does surprise me."

"You will see things different when you are as old as I and unwed. But you have a long way until that. But, can't you see if even good friends have the ability to surprise the other after nearly a lifetime, how much more likely is your marriage partner to do the same?"

"I suspect we will have to agree to disagree on this Charlotte. But even you must agree that a woman needs to spend time to learn if her suitor is a gentleman or it is just pretence. And that means she must not appear to have an excess of sensibility or be indiscrete."

"Sure, but that does not mean the lady cannot show partiality in her attentions. Flirtation can be done decorously without causing censure from even the most particular of matron. We are just discussing a matter of to what degree, to which we both can agree, this can be a little, but not a lot."

Elizabeth felt continuing this line of argument would be counterproductive so decided, rather than arguing in circles, to return to an earlier, unresolved issue. "Still, coming back to Jane, whatever you say, Mr Bingley was the one at fault for abandoning her, not the other way around."

"Lizzie, you misconstrue what I have said in defence of your sister. I did not say it was not Mr Bingley's fault, just I wished you to see how Jane may have contributed to the situation, thus it was not entirely Mr Bingley's fault."

"No, I can't see it. Jane is entirely blameless."

"Elizabeth, I think this is one more point where we may just have to agree to disagree. Georgiana, what do you think?"

Georgiana looked startled to be asked. Elizabeth was a little annoyed that Charlotte was looking to get Georgiana on her side to win the argument.

"I don't know. Um..."

Elizabeth was further riled when Charlotte interrupted Georgiana to continue.

"That is probably a good thing, if Lizzie and I cannot agree there is little chance you knowing which is the correct advice to follow. Best to leave it until you are older, and need to consider this in earnest. Then look back on what we each said and decide for yourself."

Elizabeth fumed inside. With that statement, how was she to do anything other to concur without looking petulant. She wanted to say something, but was too unsettled to say anything that would not be hurtful, so she had the good grace to stay silent. Charlotte thankfully changed the subject and continued the conversation about dresses while Elizabeth tried to calm down.

The whole situation with Jane and Mr Bingley nagged at Elizabeth as she tried to take part in what the other two were talking of, but quite frankly, silk, satin, lace and ribbons didn't have the same attraction for her as did for them. What she really wanted to do was to leave, and go to the end of the East Pier, which she had found was the best place to be alone and think, something she couldn't do while half in and half out of this conversation. And, she thought wryly, Charlotte would kill her, if another round of illness didn't do it – the weather was typical of this time of year, cold, wet and windy – certainly not conducive to standing for any length of time at that exposed location.

Something struck Elizabeth, at this point she had no idea of the situation or the wording of the advice. As she remembered it, Mr Darcy certainly didn't think it was anything extraordinary. He clearly stated he thought their separation was due to Jane having no regard for Charles and was only acting... what was the word he used... mercenary! As if Jane could ever act like that. But he came across as so certain of his facts. So who was right? What she had been told, or Mr Darcy's version, but how could she know? It was not like she could ask him. Then she realised she could ask Richard, he might just know the answer. So she excused herself from the ladies and moved to sit next to Richard.

"Too much lace and bows even for you, Elizabeth?"

While she actually agreed with him, Elizabeth felt she had to jump to the defence of ladies everywhere, "It's not that at all, I've come to ask you a question."

"Ask away"

"Um... You know... Um..."

"Come on Elizabeth, you know you can ask me anything, just spit it out."

"It is... it's about Mr Bingley. What was the advice Mr Darcy gave his friend, as his version of what he said was so very different from what I heard from you. Did you know that the lady in question was my sister?"

"Ah... that. Yes I know now she is your sister. Oh dear, I knew this would come back and bite me."

"Bite you? What do you mean?"

"I have a confession to make about that, but first let me just say that I am very sorry in advance."

"Do you need to?"

"I think you see why by the time I finish. Remember it was before you and Darcy went off to London? Yes. Good. Now I noticed that Darcy was very attracted to you already and was frankly making a cake of himself, always staring, tongue-tied as a blushing schoolboy."

"Is that why he keep staring at me not saying anything? I thought was that he was finding fault with me. Oh dear."

"You did? Well, it was the complete opposite, let me tell you. Anyway I noticed that you had less regard for him in return and so..."

Elizabeth had to interrupt at this point to confess herself, "Less regard? At that point I actively disliked him and was only looking to find evidence that painted him as the worse of men. Did you know I once thought him less of a gentleman than even Mr Wickham?"

"I know now from what you've told me that you didn't... let's just say... appreciate many of my cousin finer points, but no, I didn't know it was to that extent."

"Well it is not that way now, not at all. I realise, in many ways thanks to you, you got me to discover what happened to Mrs Younge, I was so very wrong, and that has led me to quite a different opinion of him. Yes, now it is quite the opposite." Elizabeth wondered where that statement had come from, it was not something that she had considered to date, but Richard had a way of pulling out of you your un-thought thoughts, and there was nothing in that statement that was in anyway incorrect so let it stand. It did seem to surprise Richard as well as there was a pause before he continued.

"So where was I... Yes, so I thought it best to try to give you examples of his character that might make help you see him in a more beneficial light. But I have to say it was not achieving the results I had hoped. But I suppose nothing I said at the time would have helped?"

"No. I have to say I remember I was finding the constant stories of 'nice Mr Darcy' a bit tedious, to tell the truth. So I ignored a good deal of what you were saying out, sorry.

"No need to apologise. I did realise, well after some time, that stories of Darcy's childhood just weren't doing the trick, so I changed tack. So I talked up a few of his more recent exploits, including the Bingley one, to see if that would do any better. The first few I think you paid no more attention than you had earlier, but when I noticed you suddenly were all ears when Bingley's name was mentioned, I thought I had my chance."

"Your chance?"

"You know, to show what a fine fellow Darcy was. So I talked it up a bit. Well, actually I pretty much embellished it to the point it was only barely the truth. Made like it was Darcy's doing, where, ultimately it what happened could only be down to Bingley himself."

"But... But, I thought he'd caused Mr Bingley to abandon my sister, and now my sister thinks Mr Darcy will come around to buy her off, and that just made me dislike your cousin all the more."

"Well I did notice you go very quiet at the end of what I told you, but did not think that..."

"No you didn't think!"

"Said well I said you'd see my need for an apology. So I whole hearted apologise to you. I suspect I will have to apologise to Darcy and your sister as well. Even Bingley I suppose."

"I accept .And Jane certainly needs one. Mr Darcy is for you to decide. But why does Mr Bingley need an apology? He was the one that abandoned my sister, breaking her heart."

"He did? That is not how I understand it. Although I believe that his sister Caroline put a good deal of pressure on him to break it off. She seems to think she has a chance with Darcy you see, and thinks that if she can get Bingley and Georgiana together, it might help her own chances with Darcy. So no one but Georgiana is good enough for her brother. Anyway, the main problem, as I understood it, was that Bingley cared deeply enough for your sister to consider marriage, even with her situation, but did not know of her feelings for him. From what I know, Darcy only told him to find out if she loved him or not, and only if Charles discovered she did not love him to walk away. Now this is where the stories differ, Darcy always assumed that Bingley had confirmation of her lack of regard, or at least that is what he told me. And I have no reason to doubt it. It appears somehow Bingley got this confirmation and thus took Darcy's advice, or just as likely, did not get enough encouragement from your sister and just made that assumption. Now, please don't get angry with me, I am just saying what I honestly think happened. "

This was the second person to point to failings on Jane's side rather than placing all the blame on Mr Bingley's shoulders. Richard's version also mostly exonerated Mr Darcy as well. But what was she to think? Elizabeth, was now less clear than before.

"Look, Elizabeth, if it makes you feel any better, I understand Darcy is now rather annoyed with Bingley over the whole thing, or I get that sense from his more recent letters."

"Why would Mr Darcy be annoyed with his friend?"

"I think it has to do with how Bingley acted or didn't act regarding your sister. I don't know the exact particulars, nor even know if it is for me to say, but this is just what I read into his most recent few letters; Darcy thinks Bingley acted poorly or didn't make enough effort to find out your sister's feelings for him and relied rather too much on his sister's opinion, which Darcy doesn't trust."

What could Elizabeth say to this? Now she really wanted to run out of the house and down, down the long pier to stand there as the waves crashed around the breakwater and the gulls made their mournful calls. But the weather, raining and cold would not allow it. "Oh. Well. Um... Thank you Richard."

"For what? It is I that should be thanking you for accepting my apology."

"Oh, don't worry about that. You didn't know. No thank you for being honest and telling me the truth."

"From now on, always the truth, Elizabeth. I am sorry."

"So you said. Um... Amy-Jane looks like she needs me."

"Oh dear. Sorry I kept you , Go, go..."

And with that Elizabeth made her escape.

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><p>It was much later. Elizabeth was in bed but could not sleep due to the thoughts that continued to swirl about in her head. It was just the continuation of the way she had spent rest of the day; mulling over everything she had learned. This was very important for her to resolve as her blaming Darcy for Mr Bingley's abandonment of Jane was one of the things that sat at the core of her refusal. Could it be true that Darcy's actions were only incidental to Mr Bingley's abandonment of Jane? And now he is annoyed with his friend over his friend's actions. What was that all about? Elizabeth hoped Mr Darcy would not get involved now. His advice last time had helped to create this disaster, imagine how bad his deliberate help could be now? No, though Elizabeth, that was uncharitable of her. It seemed like Mr Darcy had little to do with it, could it be Mr Bingley's fault? Richard seemed to lay the blame mostly on Mr Bingley, Mr Bingley's sister, and to a much smaller extent, Jane herself.<p>

Then there was what Charlotte had to say about Jane, it was similar, if from a different perspective. Elizabeth, grudgingly, admitted to herself that Charlotte, supported unknowingly to her by Richard, may just have point. Well, not about not knowing that much about your intended, that was just silly, but at least with Jane's reserved nature. But not that she'd ever admit it to Charlotte, of course.

The more she thought of it, the more she could see Richard's point, that whatever advice Mr Bingley received, it was up to him to decide how to act. Elizabeth knew had a hundred people told her to accept Mr Darcy, and she was certain if she had asked one hundred people they all would say that that she should, she would have followed her own heart in the matter, ignoring the advice of the hundred others.

So here was another of her objections falling in tatters around her. She had been so certain that she was both right and very justified in both her refusal and her accusations about him. Now almost all her accusations had been refuted, leaving her feeling worse than ever about how she treated Mr Darcy on that day. Sure, his attitude, his pride, his arrogance, its manifestation as condescension and complete disregard for her feelings and needs were grounds for refusal, and would always be the case. But now she was ashamed at how hurtful she had been in her refusal. Had she known then what she knew now, her reply would have been so different. It would still have been an emphatic no, but it would have been with sadness and concern for his inability to see past his own desires, than the angry, accusative, let's face it, she told herself, cruel way she threw his offer back at him.

Now feeling very ashamed by her own actions on that day Elizabeth wished desperately to take them back. Her newly won knowledge of him proved to her that Mr Darcy did not deserve to have been treated as he had by her, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Unhappy with herself but at least now this situation resolved in her own mind, Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

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><p>It was a couple of days later, coming back from the Darcy's, but instead of going straight home, Elizabeth, Charlotte and Amy-Jane took advantage of the fair weather to do a little grocery shopping. This was like any other time, except for one specific incident.<p>

Elizabeth had been delayed looking for a cabbage that was less wilted than the others. Charlotte had gone ahead with Amy-Jane to look at something in the window of a shop further down the street, as the young girl had started playing up as she was bored. Hurrying to catch up, having made her purchase Elizabeth overheard the two women in front of her talking while pointing towards Charlotte.

"Which woman?"

"That one there, you know, the one with that illegitimate daughter of Lizzie Smith."

"Oh, that one. Don't know, probably some other unsuitable woman. I hear she has a 'friend' staying with her." Elizabeth could clearly hear the quotations marks about the word friend.

"You know that all the men-folk treat her well... That can only mean one thing!"

"You don't say, really?"

"Well, no one's caught her or her friend with anyone, but there must be a reason she is favoured."

Elizabeth was about to ignore it as the idle gossip of spiteful women or walk past them and see them shut up quickly when she heard the conversation take a much more concerning turn, so slowed to just keep up as they ambled along.

"Anyway, you know Mrs Hughes allows her Billy to play with that daughter of hers?"

"No!"

"She does. I've stopped my John from visiting, you know just in case."

"In case what?"

"It's all innocent now, but imagine, in a few years' time, John might see her as a possible wife."

"Oh no.! You can't allow that to happen. Thankfully my Rupert is still too young to worry about."

"Don't you be so sure, when she's older she'll..."

Unfortunately Elizabeth did not hear the rest as the two ladies turned to cross the street, leaving Elizabeth behind. Elizabeth stared at the back of those vicious women, assigning future traits of a slut to a girl that was not yet five. While glaring at their backs, hoping they'd trip or something, Elizabeth recognised at least one of them, one that was nowhere as rude to her face. Was this the secret attitude of many of the townsfolk? It had been made worse since she turned down Rector Dawson's rather clumsy proposition, and ever since he bought up the dangers of have Jezebels in the parish at every appropriate opportunity.

Charlotte must have noticed something as she asked, "What's wrong Lizzie?"

"Nothing Charlotte, nothing of import."

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><p>But those hurtful comments stayed with Elizabeth and put a damper on the rest of her day. When Amy-Jane asked if she could go next door to play with Billy, Elizabeth almost said no, if only not to cause Mrs Hughes problems with her neighbours. Realising how silly that was, she took her around herself. Although she watched Mrs Hughes reaction more closely than she ever had previously, Elizabeth could not detect any sign of duplicity or reluctance to have Amy-Jane to visit.<p>

As Elizabeth returned home, she realised that she could not continue this way, constantly paranoid about what her neighbours thought. But even so, what those two gossips said reminded Elizabeth of, and illustrated rather too clearly, Mrs Carter's argument regarding how her decisions will affect Amy-Jane later in her life. At the time Elizabeth had argued strongly for her original decision, convinced of the rightness of her opinion, but recent events had proven the fallibility of her judgement. So, over the rest of the day, and the next, in amongst the day's minutiae, and around the occasional wistful thoughts regarding the possibilities what could have happened had he been a much a nicer Mr Darcy, Elizabeth re-visited her reasons for deciding to live the way she had here in Ramsgate.

After much soul searching Elizabeth realised what she had to do. Asking Charlotte to look after Amy-Jane for a little while, she had to speak with Mrs Carter. Charlotte looked concerned, but she reassured Charlotte there was nothing to worry about. Going into the kitchen she found Mrs Carter preparing dinner. Picking up a knife herself and starting on the potatoes, Elizabeth started, "Mrs Carter, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Certainly Elizabeth, what is it?"

"I've come to apologise. I've been wrong for a long time, and want your advice."

"Certainly, you know you can talk to me at any time. But wrong about what?"

"Oh sorry, I've been so caught up with having to apologise, I forgot to tell you why. I've been thinking..."

Mrs Carter then interrupted, with some amusement in her voice, "I've noticed you've done that a lot, although I am very pleased that this time you did it inside, dear. Is that why you are apologising? If so, it really didn't matter."

"Very true, but no, I am sorry to have caused so much concern, but the reason for my apology is that I've realised you were right all along. My decision to be, let's face it, brutally honest, would have been fine if it was just my life, but I have just realised how this affects Amy-Jane now and will continue to affect her life. I heard two locals talking to each other yesterday and they made it very clear they already consider this as part of her life and making decisions on that basis. So I apologise. I didn't listen to you and ask your forgiveness for it. And also now that it is cleared up, your advice on what to do next. "

"What Elizabeth, what?" Mrs Carter sounded almost a little annoyed with her. Elizabeth was silent for a moment as she went back over what she said. Why was Mrs Carter still confused, she'd even explained it twice.

"What do you mean, I explained, didn't I? No, I suppose not, sorry. I've realised just now that when I chose not to pass myself off as a widow, one of the consequences of this is everyone knows Amy-Jane is someone's natural daughter. I thought I was being brave, avoiding the hypocrisy that the adults around me were trying to make me live, but in the end you, the Gardeners, and the Carmichaels were right and I was wrong. I see that now. So I am sorry, sorry for putting you through what must have been hard, harbouring a fallen woman such as I, causing others to shun you, and avoid Amy-Jane's company for their children as well. Please tell me, did it, does it happen often? I am so, so very sorry." The last of this statement was said in a rush of tears, as Elizabeth realised that Mrs Carter would also have been affected by her decision. What should have been a time of gentle retirement was probably full of vexation caused by a stroppy young woman.

"There, there, Elizabeth. It's not been that bad at all." Mrs Carter stopped what she was doing and came over and gave Elizabeth a hug. As Elizabeth sobbed into her shoulder, Mrs Carter continued. "Yes, I suppose a few people were silly enough not to want to know me from what you had no control over, but could I name them? No. I can't say I even remember who they are, it is their loss not mine. In the end they were not worth knowing, so I have lost nothing. Shh dear. What I did gain, was a delightful young lady and child as a companion. I won't insult your intelligence to say I loved every minute of it, they were moments where you drove me to distraction, remember the events of our second Easter?" The memory of that was enough to stop Elizabeth's tears and bought out a weak laugh, "See, but I'd never give you up, never, even if the whole town is against us."

Elizabeth, feeling so much better, felt composed enough to talk now, "Thank you Mrs Carter, thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me. I don't know if you know, but my world has been on very shaky foundations recently, but you are one of the rocks that keep me firm, you, Amy-Jane and Charlotte."

Mrs Carter stepped out of the embrace, wiped her cheeks and went back to her preparation, "Enough of that Elizabeth, you'll give me a swell head. I did just what family is supposed to do, stick together through thick and thin. You'll get married one day, and you need to remember this. It will make your new family so much stronger as a result."

"Yes, that is something I have learnt from you. Another thing to thank you for. But that is not all, what I want to know, is now that I am prepared to take your advice what can I do about it? It is not like I can make up a long dead husband and be believed now, unless I move town, and I can't see how I could cope moving away from you. Can you see my dilemma?"

"It's not as much of a problem as you think Elizabeth, I only came here to Ramsgate to care for my late husband's aunt, Mrs Barrington, who as you know was very frail and nearly deaf. When she passed away, I felt I had no need to go on living either, and was looking to fade quietly from this mortal coil myself. That is until you and Amy-Jane turned up. This is still Mrs Barrington's house in my mind, I am just here as a tenant not an owner. My home is Lambton, and always will be, I think. Could you be willing to move there? I'd love it if you said yes. People already know of you through my letters as Mrs Smith, so the move would achieve both ends at once."

"You would consider moving? I wasn't sure I could ask that of you."

"I suppose I wanted to move even before you came, but you seemed settled here I did not want to upset you by risking it, particularly as you would go through the problems you had here in any new place. But now..."

"But now I'll be a respectable widow and there is no problem. I can't say I like it, but I now understand why it is the for the best. We have a lot to discuss regarding when and how. Maybe it would be best to start by writing to my Uncle? But I don't want to force you into anything."

"No, you're not forcing me into anything, but that is a very good suggestion, but let's discuss this for a bit first before we write to my son-in-law."

"That's fine with me. Now there is only one question to resolve..." Elizabeth paused for effect.

"Well? What is it Elizabeth?"

"Should Mr Smith have been an officer in the Army or the Navy?"

* * *

><p>Even with everything that had happened, that week had one last significant event. It was the Thursday when they all arrived at the Darcy house to be shown into the parlour. The atmosphere was like a funeral, Elizabeth noticed that Georgiana would only look at the floor, and Richard sat there with a very stern expression, holding a letter or some other paper in his hands.<p>

Elizabeth's first thought was 'Oh no, something dreadful has happened Mr Darcy' which annoyed her. There could be any number of reasons for the grave faces, why did HE have to intrude into her thoughts as he so frequently did? But the mood was infectious and they all walked softly and sat quietly, not saying anything. Thankfully Richard put them out of their misery soon enough.

"I have here a letter from my Mother. She is returning to London as I speak and wishes me to return to be there when she arrives on Sunday."

There was a collective sigh, this was only bad news, but at least it was news that had not crossed over the line into the truly horrid. But that was not the full extent of it, as Richard continued, "Unfortunately, the lease on this house only has a few weeks to go, so I have decided that when I return, there is no longer any reason for Georgiana to stay on alone, so she will be coming with me when we leave. Darcy has already let his feelings known that he did not wish the lease to be renewed again, and also expressed his desire to see his sister again, as his own business prevents him visiting Ramsgate."

This caused a quiet sob from Georgiana, who clearly liked the decision no more than Elizabeth, and from the shocked expression on her friend's face, Charlotte either.

"I know we all thought this time in Ramsgate would go on forever, but life goes on. I need to get back on the horse again, both figuratively and literally. My duties start again soon, as the Horse Guards have already made plans for me after Easter. Georgiana too, needs to continue her learning. With the Countess back, she will take over teaching Georgie what she needs to know for her presentation at court, until a new companion can be found. I suspect Mother will arrange that also.

"But Mother's demand would have meant leaving tomorrow, which is not suitable as I have some unfinished business, so we will not be leaving until Monday. I am sorry, but," Richard waved the letter as if it was flag of surrender, "Mother will be less than pleased I didn't follow her directive to the letter, so that is the best I can do. Sorry."

That put a real damper of the rest of the visit and their mood never recovered. Unsurprisingly the visit was shorter than normal, and they all retired to Mrs Carter's somewhat subdued.

When they returned Friday, it was as if there was a collective decision to ignore their impending separation and to have as much fun as was possible in the short time left. And so they did.

When Richard returned and made a comment about how nice it was to see some good weather for once, Charlotte rushed to suggest a walk along the promenade.

Once dressed appropriately, the party left and headed first down to the seawall and then west along the waterfront. Elizabeth noticed that Charlotte positioned herself so that Richard walked alongside her, leaving Elizabeth to pair up with Georgiana. Elizabeth didn't mind this, but worried that Charlotte was making her own desires a bit too obvious. She wanted to take her friend aside and tell her, gentlemen generally like to think they are the pursuer not the pursued, but was still very uncertain just what was going on. That they were partial to each other was obvious from the way the often gravitated together, seemingly without conscious thought, but if this was more than just friendship, Elizabeth could not tell. Remembering what Richard had said about needing to marry an heiress, and his father's strictures, could Richard, whose comforts and very profession surely needed subsidy, which could only come from his father, be willing to forgo all that for marriage against his wishes and even his own stated goal for his own marriage?

But Charlotte seemed to be very happy, almost glowing while walking with Richard. Could there already be an understanding between them? Was this the 'unfinished business' for which Richard had delayed his departure, and risk censure from his mother? Arrggh! It was all so frustrating. It would be nice if it could be like a novel, where the author allowed you to see inside the protagonist's heads and know what was going on. But, Elizabeth castigated herself, she's been woolgathering and paying little attention to her own companion, so taking her focus off the couple in front of her she turned to give Georgiana all of her attention, and was glad she did.

As it was during this walk that Elizabeth discovered more about the fears of the young lady walking along side her. Georgiana was first very reluctant to articulate more than just saying she was afraid of going back to London, but as they progressed, Elizabeth was able to tease the reasons for this out of her. It came down to several overlapping fears. Firstly, Georgiana was scared of failing her Aunt, of not being good enough at the social graces, unable act as a gentlewoman should. Secondly, that she was worried that she'd only attract men like Mr Wickham, only interested in her as an heiress, and thus the possibly of true love would always pass her by. And lastly, she had somehow disappointed her brother so much he could not stand to be with her, as evidenced by his sudden departure and failure to return.

The third was both the easiest and hardest to refute. Elizabeth's innate honesty meant she could not outright lie to Georgiana, but how could she say anything that was even approaching the truth. In the end, Elizabeth resorted to the method of all parents everywhere, by just assuring that her brother's hurried departure was nothing to do with her, without further explanation, then adding his failure to return was only due his being away from his many duties for so long earlier in her stay in Ramsgate. Georgiana had to agree that her brother could be a very busy man, and seemed happy with this reasoning. Thankfully though Elizabeth, I'd not like to have to give even the barest minimum of an explanation of the real reason Mr Darcy would not be returning to Ramsgate, ever.

As for the first, Elizabeth got Georgiana to talk about her Aunt and her previous experiences with the Countess. Thankfully these were generally very positive, and Elizabeth was able to have Georgiana come to the realisation on her own that her Aunt would not be any different this time. Elizabeth was also able to reassure Georgiana that an accomplished woman did not have to be the best at everything, and in fact, to think you could do that was the height of conceit. And she reminded Georgiana, she would only be with her Aunt only until a new companion was found, which could not take that long.

The last of Georgiana's fears was one that Elizabeth knew very well herself. It did require her to confess that, due to her own experience with one very bad man that, yes, was like Mr Wickham, she also misjudged Mr Darcy, and only recently was able to see past her own bias towards men in general to recognise his goodness. Georgiana, who apparently saw Elizabeth as a veritable paragon, and font of infallible advice found this hard to believe at first. This required more explanation, to which Elizabeth felt it necessary to ask for forgiveness for ignoring Georgiana due to her dislike of her brother. Georgiana was very happy to give this, as that was another of her fears, previously unspoken, that she'd done something that caused Elizabeth's withdrawal. Elizabeth assured her it was entirely her own fault and nothing Georgiana had done. Elizabeth went on to give as much advise she could, based on what had happened to her, in the most general terms of course, regarding judging each gentleman on their own merit, and to trust the judgement of others. As Elizabeth added, she had not done with Mr Darcy, to her own detriment. Georgiana asked how that was to Elizabeth's detriment, and she had to temporise an answer that gave nothing away.

By the end of this walk, their friendship returned to the closeness of their first acquaintance, that had had been missing during the height of Elizabeth's dislike of Mr Darcy.

Unfortunately the weekend returned to the more usual winter weather and that was the last walk they shared. Te remaining two days they spent together, was by necessity, indoors. Richard was absent all of Saturday and popped in and out on Sunday, but the ladies were happy to entertain each other in his absence, cramming as much into these last few days as possible. All the while the servants packed and assembled a growing pile of chests and band boxes ready for departure early Monday morning.

Monday morning came too soon. There was a great deal of hugging and tears of farewell, repeated pledges and extracted promises to write, before Richard assisted Georgiana into the Darcy coach and then climbed in besides her. Elizabeth, Charlotte and Amy-Jane followed the coach as it drove down alongside the house and then stood and watched as it headed west towards the edge of town and onto the road to London. They waved until the coach disappeared from view. When it was not longer visible, Amy-Jane asked, "Mummy have they really gone?"

When Elizabeth replied, "Yes, dear, they've gone." Amy-Jane promptly burst into full blown sobs that did not cease until after she got home. Amy-Jane's tears reflected how the other two felt, but were just adult enough not to succumb to themselves.

* * *

><p>The departure of Georgiana and Richard left an enormous hole in each and every day afterward. The depression that Elizabeth had felt only a week earlier, only absent while with them, returned with a vengeance. But, by Friday, Elizabeth's naturally lively disposition overcame most of her melancholy and she returned to a much more even natured emotional state. It was only now that Elizabeth realised that Charlotte must also be feeling low and for the first time that week asked if Charlotte would like to take tea in the parlour, she would serve, to do something special for her friend.<p>

Once they were seated, Elizabeth confessed to how wrong she had been about Mr Darcy, and apologised for not accepting Charlotte's assurances to the contrary. Charlotte was very gracious about it, and then asked Lizzie how this transformation had occurred.

So Elizabeth explained how Richard's insistence that she find out what happened to Mrs Younge led to her discovering the first of many things that she completely misjudged regarding Mr Darcy. Elizabeth went on to explain how, little by little, all the lies she told herself, all the times she chose to think not the best, not even the most likely, but entirely the worst of him, unravelled as she asked questions, and more importantly was prepared to listen to the answers. She thanked Charlotte again for being so patient with such a muddle-headed friend, to which Charlotte said she was only too happy to forgive.

Elizabeth went on to explain how this lapse in judgement regarding Mr Darcy made her realise how her experience with the Viscount had coloured much of her more recent interaction with people in general, but specifically gentlemen. Thus Mr Darcy changed from a man that was just another Viscount or Mr Wickham to being one of the most honourable men of her acquaintance.

At that point Charlotte asked, "So Lizzie, with everything you know now, if Mr Darcy made you his offer today, would you accept him?"

"I'd do it differently, with compassion rather than anger but no. I would not accept it. There are still reasons to say no."

"But why Lizzie? Surely you've seen your reasons for your turning him down were based on your own misjudgement. You said so yourself. Why won't you accept his offer? It would be the best offer you're ever likely to get. Better than I thought I could ever get. I would accept a man like him."

"Yes. And it might be better than what you thought you might get, but that still does not mean I should accept it or any I will get in the future. He did not love me, he just thought he did."

"Listen to you. You'll not accept any of the offers you'll get in the future. You're so ungrateful of the chances you've had. And so confident of your future. Listen Lizzie, when you are as old as I, you'll look back at what happened and rue the day you turned down someone like Mr Darcy."

"Maybe that is where you and I are different Charlotte, I'm not prepared to be married at any cost, so no, I will not look back and regret turning down his offer or any of the others."

"How come you, an unmarried mother, can turn down offers and be happy about it? I've never had anyone make me an offer Lizzie. No one's ever considered me. Can you know what it is like, can you? No of course you can't. Men fall all over you, and you turn them down! You turn them down! The wonderful, wealthy, considerate Mr Darcy, who was ever so nice to me, makes you an offer and you refuse him. Even now you know the truth about him you refuse him, and just expect more offers. How can you do that to him, to them? I hate you Lizzie, I hate you."

By her final statement Charlotte was in tears, and in loud heart rending sobs, she rushed from the room.

Elizabeth sat there feeling very, very awkward.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**So the real question is:**

**.**

**Army or Navy or something else?**

**.**

**Which do you think Elizabeth and Mrs Carter would have decided on? Let me know in a review. For added credits - what other information would they have decided on, for example:**

**What did he look like?**

**Was he foreign?**

**How did they meet?**

**How do does Elizabeth explain the lack of relatives?**

**When and how did he die? Was it heroic?**

**.**

**Let me know your thoughts on those and anything else the pair of them could come up with – as the saying goes if you are going to lie about something, best be prepared - so write as much as you want, I'd love to read your thoughts.**


	48. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 13

**Another chapter of the two of them apart, but do not worry, the move to Lambton will not be that far away and the Darcy's always return to avoid London mid-summer, so this separation cannot be for much longer. Sorry this is a longer than expected chapter, but there was much to cover to get them to a reunion and I didn't want to leave any of it out.  
><strong>

**Note: In my rush to get the previous chapter out I did not check it as well as I should, so there is now an updated version - nothing changed, but now some of the more confusing bit should make more sense.**

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 13**

As Darcy continued to stand there, Mr Gardener ushered the boys out the door. Darcy could not understand the reason for such a dramatic action, but it did resolve one point – she definitely had strong feelings for Charles, but as to whether this was a positive sign or a very negative one, Darcy could not tell.

Darcy heard Mr Gardener tell his sons to go to their nurse then call out for his wife before returning to the parlour.

"I am so sorry Mr Darcy, I am entirely unsure as to the reason for my niece's actions."

"As am I, Mr Gardener. To my knowledge, I have never met her or had any dealings with her. As you already know, I am a friend of Mr Bingley, and I can imagine she may not have the most charitable of feelings for him, but as to the reason for her reaction to me, I am totally lost."

"Well, I must apologise again on her behalf, she is not normally prone to hysteria. But as you may already be aware, life has not always been kind to her, or the Bennet family. Ah, here is my wife. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

"No problem, take as long as you need."

"Well, I won't be long." With that Mr Gardener left the room. While Darcy could hear the mumble of voices from beyond the door he made a particular point of studying the pictures, noticing that the artist had the signed the pictures MBG, which were most likely Mrs Gardener's initials. That would explain the knowledge of the children's character, so evident as he studied each closer. There were a few less practiced works, all scenes in and around Derbyshire or nearby counties, including one that might well be Pemberley looking across the trout lake with the bulk of the house to the left, but the naive style meant it could be others, William Kent's landscaping was much admired and often copied, as was Pemberley's, thought to be one of his exemplary designs. Intent on trying to determine whether this was Pemberley or not, Darcy did not hear Mr Gardener re-enter the room.

"I suppose you are the person most likely to recognise that painting, considering it is your own property."

"Ah, so it is Pemberley, but not the usual view. Most sketch it straight on."

"Yes, Madeline preferred to sit under the trees on the small rise, if she's taken a direct view of the house she would have been in the middle of this lawn here in the foreground." Said Mr Gardener as he pointed this out, as he continued to explain, "If I remember rightly, that was while we were only betrothed, and I had come up to Lambton on one of my buying trips. We took the opportunity to visit, but as it was mid-summer and a glorious day, poor Madeline would have wilted had she not been in the shade."

"Yes I know, the front lawn can be a real heat trap in fine weather. There were many times that my parents used the trees as shade for picnics when they were both with us. You know, I like this view. The house looks less formal, more inviting somehow. I always found the front entrance a bit imposing," Darcy tilted his head to try to move the painting's point of view, then realised what he was doing, as if a piece of paper can shift, and turned away himself.

"The trout pond was also a great boon in the heat for a young lad. Do you fish Mr Gardener?"

"That I do Mr Darcy."

"Please call me Darcy, whenever you say Mr Darcy I still look around for my father."

"Of course Mr Dar... Darcy, if you would call me Edward."

"Certainly. so Edward, you fish. Well, if you are ever in Lambton and feel the urge, please make yourself free with the pond and streams. If I'm there, all the better, as I could show you the best sites. I shall write to my Steward to inform him that he is not only to allow it, but to lend you a set of tackle and bait or tied flies, whenever you require them."

"That is most generous of you sir."

"Am I back to sir? How quickly just Darcy is forgotten."

"No it is not that Darcy, it is just to show my appreciation of the honour. Pemberley is well known in the district for the quality and quantity of its course fishing. This is truly a wonderful offer to a keen fisherman such as I."

"Pish! Happy to have you trouble my fish, I so infrequently get the chance, so you..." Darcy stopped as Madeline Gardener put her head around the door and gave her husband a come-hither gesture with her head.

"Darcy, if you would excuse me?"

"Certainly, Edward." Darcy thought about sitting, but this evening was so unusual that he was uncertain what was the polite thing to do. So Darcy went back to looking at the art, trying to work out where else in Derbyshire or the Peak Districts the other landscapes were. The discussion in the hallway took some considerable time, which Darcy thought could not be a good sign, but eventually a grave looking Mr Gardener returned.

"Mr Darcy, are you certain you have no ulterior motive other than what you stated?"

"No. While I will admit to being curious as to what Elizabeth Smith's sister would be like in person, I believe I have already stated my reasons for wanting to meet your niece."

"You are not here on the bequest of your friend, Mr Bingley?"

"Of course not. He does not know I planned to visit your home or that I would be meeting Miss Bennet. Nor do I think he know the connection between the Elizabeth Smith I wrote of and her sister, unless he learned it from Miss Bennet directly."

"Oh, while it was garbled due to her current state, my wife has said she accuses you of being the cause of her separation from Mr Bingley, and also something more serious. Thus while I apologise in advance, the question must be asked. Mr Darcy, are you here to buy off my niece?"

"What? No! Not at all. What gave her that idea? I am sorry, but I cannot see where she would get that impression. I will admit that a casual comment I made many months ago seems to have been taken completely the wrong way, and might have contributed to the situation. But it was unconsciously done, and I had thought, had it ever come up in conversation, to apologise to Miss Bennet wholeheartedly in any case."

"It did seem to be an odd accusation. I understand all this information came from her sister Elizabeth. Do you have any idea why she would cast you in this role?"

"Regrettably, I do."

"You do?"

"Yes. You know I hold Elizabeth Smith in very high regard, but I must say the feeling is not mutual, as I know for a fact it is the complete opposite. She told me so herself, in a very forthright manner, as I can imagine you know all too well. But this antipathy was all due to my own failings I must add."

Darcy noticed Mr Gardener's expression, which had been looking more sympathetic as he explained suddenly go very hard and showed a good deal of disgust as well. Then Darcy realised, he must think I… Oh no.

"Look, no! It was not that! Not that at all! I never propositioned her or made any immoral approach, ask her yourself if you don't believe me. It was that in my pride and conceit I failed to treat her as she deserved to be treated. Basically, I took her for granted. Something that started when I first met her and I made no effort to correct, to my eternal regret. So I have no doubt, when Elizabeth visited her sister, my un-gentleman-like behaviour would have been discussed. It did not help that one of my relatives, angling to have me marry a friend of hers when they paid a surprise visit to Ramsgate, appears to have told Elizabeth untruths about my having a mistress, which is the basest slander. I can only assume she possibly did this to get back at me for showing no regard for her friend. I suspect this was also prompted by my admiration for Elizabeth, which was already too apparent at that stage. I believe my cousin, that is Colonel Fitzwilliam, had remarked on this regard about the same time. However, I am less certain as to exactly what Elizabeth found out about Bingley, as every story I get differs so wildly that I cannot see how they relate the same thing. I have tried to get more information out of Bingley, but he is reluctant, to the point of evasion, to talk about it."

"I suspect we are as much in the dark as are you. Thank you for being honest with me, Darcy, your explanations makes more sense than what my wife told me, but I suppose we will be able to get to the bottom of this eventually."

"Um… I think you have a lot on your plate, with having to deal with the distress I caused your niece. Do you think it best if I make my apologies to her and then leave you to carry on? I do not want my presence to further upset her."

"Oh. I've not thought of that. Look I will just go talk to my wife. Just be a minute."

So for the third time that evening Darcy was left alone as his host went to deal with the disaster his presence had caused the Gardener household. Darcy was not normally the cause of such distress. It was usually the complete opposite, having to deal with over-emotional ladies who though his visit was only due to them rather than any business he had with their father. It seemed that from his very first meeting of Elizabeth she had turned his entire world upside down.

Mr Gardener returned with a rather sheepish look on his face. "Well, yes, um… Maddy does think that maybe it would be best to postpone tonight's dinner until tomorrow or the day after. We would be completely at your disposal."

"Don't worry, I understand completely. I'm free tomorrow if suits. Does it give you enough time?"

"It should be fine. I doubt my wife would have suggested it if it was not."

"Then I am happy to come for dinner tomorrow. But if there is a problem let me know. I won't mind."

"Good, that's sorted. Ah, one thing. Maddy says best not go up to see Jane, but maybe tomorrow at dinner. Yes?" Darcy nodded to this. "Good, good. Sorry to shuffle you out the door, but needs must and all that. Do you need a Hackney, Darcy?"

"No, the weather is good, and I could do with the walk. Thank you for the hospitality and consideration you've shown me. Many others would not have bothered to listen to my side of the story, but turfed me out on my ear." Darcy let himself be ushered out into the hallway and assisted into his outer wear. Holding out his hand, he said "Until tomorrow Edward".

"Until tomorrow Darcy."

* * *

><p>The walk home took him past the Dowager Countess, well not exactly past, but not far off to be a major detour, so Darcy took the opportunity to call in on her, regardless of how unfashionable the hour.<p>

Hatfield was surprised to see him.

"That was fast, sir."

"Fast? How so Hatfield?"

"I only just sent a footman around to Steele. In fact you've managed to beat him here, sir. I will have to have words with him about dawdling."

"Please don't do that, I was just passing and decided to call in. I've not been home all day, so there is no evidence the footman was dawdling."

"Very good, sir. Your Grandmother is in the library. This way, sir."

* * *

><p>"Fitzwilliam, what a surprise!"<p>

"Sorry about the unfashionable hour, Grandmother, I was just passing and wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine. Hatfield worries too much. As soon as I have the smallest of sniffles he turns all and sundry away. So how are you?"

"Both good and bad, Grandmother. I have had plenty of time to think, and find I am ashamed and disgusted with a lot of my past behaviour, in light of what I have learnt."

"Do not be too hard on yourself Fitzwilliam, this is all part of growing up. Do not dwell on the past, only use it to improve your future. So what are your thoughts on what we last discussed?"

"Oh dear, there has been so many realisations, so many things I need to change it is hard to think of them all."

"Then let's go back to what was most important. Do you now understand what love is? Tell me."

"Yes, yes I do. I have memorised that passage Grandmother. And in so many ways I fall short."

"We all fall short Fitzwilliam, that is what makes us human. But I want to know what you understand love to be?"

"Ah… um… Love is the… It is about thinking about the other person not about you. About seeing the world through the eyes of a child, looking on the wonder and majesty of God's creation, and then bringing that wonder into your own life. It is acceptance and caring, you know, being loving. Um… But also honesty in how you deal with others, both in your actions and in accepting theirs. It is also active, it is not just accepting things, it causes to us act… It sees the other person as having value for who they are. Most importantly I think it is about wanting the best possible for the other person, and doing what you can to make that happen, but I think to do that you need to understand them or at least try to. It comes back to the old saying it is better to give than receive. I think, all in all, it boils down to this… Love is giving not taking."

"Very good child. You are well on the way to being the man I know you can be. I am very proud of you. Love is all of what you say and more, but you have much of the essence of it."

"Thank you Grandmother. This last week has been both hard and wonderful. For one, I have the start of two strong friendships, or I hope will become lifelong friendships, both with people that previously was too arrogant to every consider as being worth talking to, let alone developing friendships with. And one, Adams, you know my friend Charles Bingley, it's his man of business, I found while we have differing opinions, I learnt something from his point of view, just like when I was back in University. I now wonder when did my views so ossify? I'd become one of those grumpy old gentlemen that live in the past already." Darcy noticed his Grandmother smile at that.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam, something your father did occasionally. You, like he, need someone to challenge you, something that your mother did not always do. There is a danger of allowing your wife to become too dutiful. Don't look at me like that Fitzwilliam. You are as much in control of that as she is. If you berate her, belittle her every time she disagrees with you, she'll not continue. But a good marriage, good mind you, not just long serving, is where both the husband and wife's views are considered. This Elizabeth sounds like she will challenge you, at least at first. But I have seen too many such women browbeaten to the point of uselessness by the inability of the husband to ever consider views other than their own. Do not let that happen to you. Please."

Darcy considered this in light of what he remembered of his parents. His mother did not often disagree with his father. Was that because they generally saw eye to eye, did they put forward a united front and argue in private, or could his father not allow dissension? Certainly his father could be autocratic at times, but as a child you so rarely got to see your parents in unguarded moments. Oh, how he wished his parents were still alive to ask now he was also an adult.

"I will Grandmother. But I have already done that haven't I. Deciding things that affected her far more than I without even considering her desires, just to save me from having to deal with the consequences of the marriage. Had she said yes, I would have crushed her spirit, wouldn't I?"

"Yes, you would. I am please you've realised it. I believe she refused you as much to preserve her spirit as for anything else, whether she ever realised it or not, of course. So what else happened?"

"In thinking of the consequences of making, what in the eyes of the ton, is an unsuitable marriage, I realised how stupid that is. Why is one marriage suitable and another not. Why should we be shunned if I marry Elizabeth? It made little sense to me. Once I realised this I could only be ashamed of the way I treated two friends of mine. Both married unsuitably, or so it was considered by those that get to decide. So, just like a sheep, I cut ties with them as the rest of the ton. But I should have at least met their new wives, to judge myself if they were unsuitable. I suddenly felt disgusted with myself at the moment when I realised how poorly I had acted back then."

"But has what you've just learned about love tell you what you should do now."

"Oh. I hadn't finished. So I've tried to learn where Reverend Featherstone now serves. He's move to a Methodist's church, but I have not learned where yet. And I wrote to Lord Trentham, he's the other one, asking for forgiveness with how I treated him. I can but hope he reads it in the spirit it was written. Oh, you'll find this amusing. Just like my letters to Elizabeth, I spent a great deal of time considering my words and writing ever more contrived letters. Each was less likely to be received well, and were slowly getting further and further from what I really wanted to say. I realise now I tend to over think things. So, just like her letters I burnt them all. But then, in one fluid session, I forgot the considered arguments, the careful logic and wrote from the heart, poured out my new found knowledge and experience onto the page. At the end of this process I had a letter I was proud to send."

"Yes you do over think things at times Fitzwilliam. Just as feelings cannot substitute for thought, neither can thought solve everything, you also need to feel. Men generally feel too little, most ladies too much, each to their own detriment. You should remember that as a parent. Teach your sons to feel as well as think, but just as importantly, teach your daughters to think as well as feel."

"I will. Hopefully you will see all of them grow up."

"That I doubt Fitzwilliam, I am nearly 80, and have been feeling every year recently."

This was the first time Darcy had ever heard his Grandmother talk like this and it frightened him. He had only just come to really know this incredibly special lady. She cannot be taken from him. Please no. Darcy was no more religious than most, but just then he prayed more earnestly than he ever had done before that it not be so.

"Don't look so grave, I certainly intend seeing you wed at least. And when you do manage to get your Elizabeth to the altar, well, I will have an instant great-granddaughter to spoil. And at least a few more, she's certainly capable of bearing children, so that is an added bonus. You just have to keep your end up."

"Grandmother!"

"Bah. I've told you, none of your silly prudery around me."

"Sorry. Oh, one thing else. Did I tell you about Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet? Yes I suppose I did, well partly. Miss Bennet is Elizabeth's sister, oh, of course you know that. Well ,anyway I am very worried that I may have helped separate them."

"How so?"

"Well, I gave Bingley some advice, you know, that he needed to consider if Miss Bennet apparent disinterest was due to her not having any regard for him, but he was the best she could do, so was feigning her interest. He denied it, say she was not like that, but I insisted. Then, just before I had to rush off to Ramsgate, we were having another discussion about it. I continued on this vein, but after I got the express, and was preparing to leave, Bingley wouldn't let it rest and kept demanding an answer on what to do. I should have told him he was old enough to know his own mind, and that he needed to decide this for himself, but what I said was 'find out if she loves you, and if she doesn't walk away'. And he took that advice too much to heart and so he did. As I have already said, Elizabeth now blames me for his desertion of her sister, who she says had a great deal of regard for him and is now heartbroken as the result, so I have to admit I am partly to blame."

"So you blame yourself for his desertion of Miss Bennet, for following your advice?"

"In essence, yes I suppose I do."

"So if you had asked, say... well not me, you know my views, but… the Earl about whether you should make an offer to Elizabeth, what do you think he'd have said?"

"Don't do it."

"And would you have followed his advice?"

"No. Of course not. He didn't know all the particulars. Actually, even if he did, I wouldn't have followed that advice, although it might have been better had I done so?"

"Really Fitzwilliam? I know the disappointment of her rejection is hard, but would you trade what you know now for ignorance and having not made an offer?"

Darcy paused to think this through. It would have been better to not have his soul stripped bare like this. No nicer, easier, not better. He was a better man because it had happened. And if he had not made the offer then, but waited until Georgiana had wed as he had originally planned, would he have made his offer in a better way? No. No he wouldn't, it still would be insulting, condescending, unfeeling, uncaring. It could have been worse, considering he would have thought himself more noble for waiting for such a long time, yet her antipathy may easily have grown not diminished in time. Elizabeth seemed to have an uncanny ability to misjudge any action he took, and she would have had more far time to invent more examples of his misdeeds in that time.

Darcy was grateful that his Grandmother had sat there in silence waiting for an answer, before he replied. "No. No I wouldn't. Without her rejection I would never be worthy of her hand. I needed that to discover how inadequate my pretentions were. I have become... I am becoming a better man, one that might just be acceptable as her husband."

"And I feel very blessed to be part of that as well, don't forget that. But back to the question, you would not have followed his advice? He is older and wiser than you. He is a dispassionate outside observer. Everything I am certain your friend saw you as being. Yet you'd ignore it, and think you've done the right thing? But your friend follows your advice, which I might add, would be similar to the advice I would have given, and you blame yourself for him doing so?"

"It does not sound so sensible when you put it that way."

"Which was why I did so! It is not sensible. Have you considered where your friend sits in all of this? What is his share of the blame? Then there is the lady's own contribution to the situation. You say that Elizabeth said she had a great deal of regard for him and is heartbroken. If that is true, how could your friend miss that level of attachment, is he a dullard? Or has Elizabeth been misled?"

"I don't know Grandmother. I visited Miss Bennet's uncle's house tonight, as soon as she saw me, she fled in tears, so is certainly not indifferent to him, he still provokes strong emotions for her. But positive or negative, I could not tell. All she knew was that I was a good friend of his, but she'd never met me before today. I don't really know what to make of it. Do you?"

"I agree, what you say is a sign of continued feeling, although it seems as if it has become negative toward you, I'd guess by extension it would be negative towards him as well."

"Well, she did accuse me of wanting to buy her off, so that maybe the reason for her reaction. Somehow Elizabeth knew of my advice to Bingley and then this was an added extra. But I never told her. I can only guess that Lady Sophie told her as well while suggesting I kept a mistress... No, that can't be right. I never told Sophie anything, I only told Richard. So he must have told his sister, and she then passed it on."

"However she knew, it appears to have caused problems for your Mr Bingley as well."

"Yes it does. The question is, should I try and help?"

"I can only say maybe. Only first discover if they still have feelings for each other. If they do, then maybe try to get them in the same room. If their feelings are still strong, they should sort it out by themselves. If they don't or can't sort it out, their love was not strong enough, and must only have been an infatuation. Haven't you complained about Mr Bingley's proclivities in this area before?"

"Yes, and that is why this is so strange. He talks now of still loving her, but of marrying out of duty. He's usually forgotten his last one as soon as the next one's entered the room. It's not been like this before."

"Well do your best, but do not get too involved, you may just lose your friend out of it."

"That is one thing I am afraid of, but if I do not at least try to do the best I can, I doubt Elizabeth will forgive me. Which is as much my motivation as the desire to help either of them personally."

"I am glad you are being honest with yourself to recognise your own self-interest in this. That is good, just watch that it does not mean you see things that are no longer there, such as an attachment by one or other of them that has long gone due to their separation. Absence does not usually make the heart grow fonder, more likely to wander. That's good advice Fitzwilliam, if you have go somewhere for any length of time offer to take your wife with you."

"I will, but that relies on me finding a way to make an offer to Elizabeth that she won't reject."

"So in light of assisting you to get her to the altar on a second try at it, tell me, how did you treat Elizabeth when you made your offer and the times you were with her before then? Was it as an adult, with feelings, desires and thoughts of her own? Or was it a child that still needs to be guided in what they do? Or, was it as a possession, something you wanted to have, to own? No don't answer. I know what would be your answer as well as you do. But unless you are already relating to her as one adult to another, do not offer. However tempting it would be, engage her heart, her mind and only then will her hand follow."

"Thank you Grandmother. You give me hope."

"And your changes give me hope in you as well. You mentioned visiting her Uncles' house. Did you have dinner there, or have you still not eaten?"

"I had been invited to dinner, but with the distress I caused Miss Bennet I excused myself, and will go tomorrow instead."

"Very likely the wisest decision in the circumstances. So if you've not eaten, I am sure Cook can serve two as well as one. Stay, and I can give the latest news from Scotland."

"Love to. So what is the news of my cousin and her babe or the Countess?"

"The Countess's latest letter has her about to leave, so she says she is likely to arrive in London by..."

* * *

><p>Darcy stared at the pile of letters that had come in today's mail. In his typical thoroughness he sorted through them by sender, placing the majority, most likely begging letters or invitations to a range of events now the little season was in full swing, to one side.<p>

Of the rest, most was the usual business correspondence, increased since he had made his new investments, although Darcy notice there was nothing from Pemberley, which could only be good news. The preparations for spring planting must be going well for David Brown not to need to send a letter asking for his decision on something or another, usually disputes between tenants, who would not listen to David, but treated everything Darcy said as the writ of law, even if it was just David's recommendation written out in his own hand. But he'd deal with this later, what he wanted to read first was reply from the Master of Trinity Hall.

Darcy noticed his hands were shaking, as it took several attempts to get the letter opener in under the wax seal. Opening it, he scanned the writing, not caring for much other than an address.

There!

At the bottom of the page, an address in the south east of London. Not the best of neighbourhoods, but not quite the worst either. Actually, it was close to a number of gaming hells, could that be why it was there? Darcy knew the Methodists preached strongly against all of the vices. Although he could not see Isaac as a pulpit thumper, a lot could happen to someone in a short period of time. Darcy thought of how much he'd changed in only a few weeks.

Still it was great news. While visiting the area late at night could be perilous to a lone gentleman, that would not be the case during the day. Darcy was eager to go, so rushed through the rest of the business mail, putting anything that need careful consideration aside, and in this manner, finished it before midday.

* * *

><p>Stepping out of the Hackney Cab, Darcy noticed the general rough demeanour of the locals and the varied levels of dilapidation in the buildings in the area, but could not tell if this was a once good area slowly descending to the lowest levels or a poorer area that was improving with the new money of the expanding middle classes. Whatever the case the Methodist Church, or Chapel, Hall... actually Darcy did not know, so decided to call it a church, was well cared for and the manse equally pristine.<p>

Unexpectedly nervous, Darcy walked over to the front door, one side already ajar, and taking off his hat, stepped inside. The interior was simply laid out, without the usual elaborate decorations present in an Anglican Church that he was more familiar with. But there were pews, hymn books, a pulpit and altar, certainly all the fundamentals were all here. He could see how you could worship the lord here, even if it was in a different pattern to what he was used to.

"Can I help you at all?" Came a voice out of smaller doorway off to the left, that would most likely led to the manse somehow.

"Yes. I am looking for Reverend Featherstone."

"You've found him. Will be out in a minute."

"No problem. Do not hurry on my account, finish what you are doing. I'm in no rush."

"Who is it? You voice sounds familiar, but I can't place it."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy."

There was a clatter and a muffled exclamation, which Darcy thought was a word a priest should not be using, before Isaac, looking a bit thinner and with a lot less hair came out of the side room.

"Darcy. So it is. What are you doing here? "

"I've come to ask forgiveness, first off. Seems appropriate to meet you in a church to do so."

"Forgiveness? Whatever for?"

"For abandoning you when you married, like everyone else did."

"Bah. No need to ask, I forgave everyone long ago. Rebecca taught me to do that, along with many other things I needed to learn." Grasping Darcy by the shoulders, he turned him back and forth. Darcy felt a little uncomfortable, but was very uncertain what the etiquette was for a Methodist cleric, so submitted to this manhandling.

"Well, Darcy, you've only grown more handsome and broader since Cambridge. How do you do it? Look, I'm already losing my hair like my father, although at a younger age. Worst thing is I'm not expected to wear a wig. Can you believe it? Still Rebecca says it makes me look older, which enhances the wisdom of my sermons."

"I'm sure you give each and every one of them as if you have the Wisdom of Solomon."

"You were always quick at turning a phrase. But that was very good, I shall have to tell Rebecca it. Look, I know you've said you've plenty of time, but I am expected to a meet the Superintendent Minister of this Circuit, consider him the local bishop, in only short period of time, but would you be willing to come back for dinner tonight?"

"I am sorry, but I can't. Not tonight" Darcy noticed that Isaac's open expression closed at this. "Look, it is only because I already have an engagement for dinner tonight, one that I can't back out of. But I am free tomorrow, would that suit instead?"

"Yes indeed, tomorrow night would be fine. Actually Rebecca does prefer a day's warning when we have guests, but has got used to not having any, so this would suit her better as well. Look, I need to go prepare appointment now I can't get out of, just as yours is tonight. Sorry to rush off like this. Can I at least get a cab for you?"

"No, don't bother, I will find my own way out and home. Until tomorrow night. Is five o'clock agreeable to you?"

"Fine, fine, anytime after... three... no four is fine. "

"Until then Featherstone." Darcy held out his hand.

"'Until tomorrow Darcy." Isaac shook it, then as if he just remembered his appointment, rushed off. As Darcy left himself he heard Isaac mutter, 'Darcy asking for forgiveness, well I never, well I never'.

* * *

><p>So Darcy returned to Darcy house for the rest of the afternoon before leaving to the Gardener's.<p>

Mr Gardener came out of an office to the right of the entry hall on his arrival and greeted him warmly. Darcy was glad his presence was still seen in a positive light. When shown into the parlour, Darcy noticed Mrs Gardener and the children were already there, but Miss Bennet was absent. Was this deliberate on her part? He supposed it must be, she must have learned of his coming today. Mrs Gardener cleared it up by excusing her niece, who, due to the excitement of yesterday was not feeling well. She did say that her niece apologised for her unseemly actions and Darcy replied no apology was necessary. She added with her niece's enforced absence, to make a bigger dinner party, they invited other friends of theirs, the Carmichael's, to join them, if Darcy did not mind, which he didn't, even if there was a polite way of saying no.

That possible source of uncomfortableness resolved, they all chatted amiably before dinner. The conversation was dominated by the two boys, as they wanted to show off all their toys and accomplishments, as children everywhere are want to do. Darcy was more than happy to indulge them, dismissing their parent's attempts to have them act calmer and with more decorum, to the point of giving all of them, except Anne, the baby, piggy-back rides or spinning them around. Emily enjoyed this attention particularly, gigging and squealing in delight, which was most evident when Darcy took to throwing her high in the air. This last action was something that cause both amusement and consternation, in equal parts, from their mother.

Before long, the children were dismissed upstairs to have their own dinner while Darcy and the Gardener's waited for the other guests to arrive. This was when Darcy was questioned, extensively, but it was good natured and not accusative, about what may have happened between his friend and their niece. Piecing together both sides of the story proved impossible, as too much of what had been reported by either side was totally contradictory. Darcy started on the defensive, but soon was able to relax, as the Gardeners were, just as he was, only trying to work out what had gone wrong and see what, if anything, they could do to correct what they thought was a travesty of fate, more than anything else. In the end, they agreed collectively to work towards trying to get the two parties in same room, as both Darcy and the Gardeners could assure the other that Charles and Jane still held strong feelings for the other, and possibly this would be all they needed. Situation resolved as best as it could be, they carried on talking of more general things.

It was not long after that the Carmichaels arrived and they went in for dinner. It was a less formal activity than Darcy was used to. But this only enhanced his enjoyment of the meal, as it allowed everyone to contribute to the dinner conversation, and the two women were well informed and very engaging in what they had to say. Rather than separate after dinner, the whole party retired as one to the parlour, where Mrs Carmichael played and Mr Gardener sang a number of northern and Scottish tunes, picked up during his travels. Mr Gardener had a fine tenor voice that the rest appreciated greatly, as they did of Mrs Carmichael's accompaniment on the pianoforte as well.

During this quality entertainment Darcy sat and had his likeness taken by Mrs Gardener. Everyone thought she captured him very well indeed, although Darcy thought, but did not voice, that she had made him appear rather too mischievous to have his complete agreement.

The evening ended all too soon, or so everyone thought when it was time to head home. Darcy had thoroughly enjoyed this time at the Gardeners. Mrs Gardener had a wicked witty streak that Darcy found very amusing, and enjoyed the lively and friendly atmosphere in their home. As he sat in the cab, Darcy had to admit, the Carmichaels were good people, and while he would not have sought them out specifically on his own, he'll probably encounter them at the Gardeners often, and was only too happy at the prospect of doing so. As he walked up his front steps Darcy tried to work out when he would be available to return the invitation to the Gardeners. No not tomorrow, he was off to see Isaac, then the day after there was the…

* * *

><p>Today saw, in with the usual mail, reply from Lord Trentham, but still nothing from Bingley. Darcy tried to guess whether Adams would be back tomorrow or not? Counting three days to get up there, and only one day to conduct business, he would be back tomorrow? Or the day after? Or several days more? For the life of him, he could not remember what day he left, until he retrieved Adams' letter. Darcy was concerned with this, he did not usually lose track of the days. His only excuse was last month or so seemed to be so crammed full and rushed past so fast it was hard to keep track of what happened when.<p>

Lord Tretham's reply was as Darcy expected although he had hoped for better. It was terse and implied strongly that if Darcy was wanted something from him, he would find little sympathy. But it did make the customary offer of hospitality, so if Darcy was ever in the neighbourhood of Stroud, he would be welcomed at Trentham Manor. That, if Darcy remembered rightly, was a drafty fortified manor house that looked more like a ruin than a house. Still beggars can't be choosers, so if he wanted to mend the breach, he'd have to make the journey. Maybe leave it until the weather was better, possibly just before going to Rosings Park at Easter? Yes, that would work. So Darcy replied to that effect, and asked confirmation if the dates he suggested would be acceptable.

* * *

><p>Darcy approached the house, feeling the same nervousness that accompanied him at the church yesterday. He had detected Featherstone was, at times very friendly, and yet other times quite standoffish. He wondered what reception he'd get tonight, as he rang the bell.<p>

Isaac himself came to the door and answered it.

"Ah Darcy, good to see you. Please come in."

"Thank you Reverend."

"None of that nonsense, Darcy, call me Featherstone, Isaac or even Feathers as you used to. It will be like old times." This was said as Featherstone functioned as a footman and assisted Darcy from his outerwear.

"No problem Feathers it is. So have you been here long?"

"Not really, maybe two years? Before that I spent time up north. In here, Rebecca has been waiting in the parlour."

At the mention of his wife Darcy was curious to see the woman that so captivated his friend and followed him into the parlour. What he saw was quite unexpected. Rebecca was unassuming, small and slightly built, not at all pretty, in fact Darcy would have said very plain, reminding him most of all of that friend of Elizabeth's… Charlotte. It was not what he had expected at all. Trentham's wife he had known. She was an exotic courtesan, but as well known for her glittering personality as her beauty, whereas Isaac's wife would not be noticed anywhere. Still, it was not for Darcy to judge, so he greeted her with every politeness and said, "Very pleased to meet you Mrs Featherstone."

"And you too Mr Darcy. Isaac has shared many stories of you and him at Cambridge. I have been all a tremble with the thought of such a large and valiant warrior for truth and honour to grace my home."

"I hope I am less frightening in real life than in his narratives."

"Yes. He painted you ten feet tall and eyes aflame when injustice was being committed."

"Feather's you didn't! Did you? I may have made my points very forcibly in my time, but that was just the nature of debate, you can't think I am like that in real life."

Isaac chimed in at this point to explain, "No Darcy I don't. But I have to admit some of our more… heated… discussions have… grown… in the telling. I suspect a number of my own valiant deeds will be bought down to earth, as I am sure Rebecca will want to know your version, since you will not know what parts I have elaborated on."

"Well I can assure you Mrs Featherstone, ask anything of our conduct at Cambridge together and, unlike your husband, you will get the unadulterated truth from me."

"And so you will teach my wife how often her husband has lied to her. Or will you confirm my version of the stories, ruining the reputation I have told of your honesty. So you are caught between Scylla and Charybdis, are you not?"

"Not at all, I am not teaching your wife how often you have lied. You have done that yourself, by your own account, even if it was just now, I can but confirm it."

"You see dear how good a debater he was. And see Darcy how your reputation's had preceded you. Oh, by the way, you passed.'

"Passed?"

"Yes, you came. I assumed your visit yesterday was to rekindle our friendship?"

"Yes. Yes I did."

"Ah, so have others over the years. All are happy to meet me in the chapel, but most quite unwilling to come here, and be seen to have dinner with me or Rebecca. So by coming, you've passed."

"I didn't know I was being tested. So was your appointment yesterday genuine, or was that just part of the test?"

"Actually I wish it wasn't, but unfortunately it was, and went on and on. I had thought I'd left all that tedious hierarchy behind when I left the Church of England but where there are men there are meetings, long tedious meetings. I am sorry not to trust you, of all people, but I have been let down by most of the others. Most came to gloat, the few that didn't wanted something from me instead."

"Oh. No, I am genuine, please accept my apology of my actions with the spirit it was offered."

"Of course Darcy, I cannot talk of your reputation for absolute honesty on one hand and then reject your plea for forgiveness as being dishonest. No, that is not possible. What does interest me is why? or at least why now?"

So Darcy went on to explain everything that had happened recently causing his charge of heart, although with some reservations at first, but with more and more disclosure as the tale was told. While not going into any great detail, Darcy did not gloss over his history with Elizabeth Smith, telling of his failings in a matter of fact manner so they could see what had caused his recent soul searching. Darcy went into more detail on what his Grandmother had taught him, and then from that what he had learnt himself. During this Isaac and Rebecca added what they had learnt from their own experience, and that helped clarify some of the things that Darcy still had not resolved. It also made Darcy realise how hard being abandoned by just about everyone they had known had been for them when they first married, compounding the shame Darcy felt for his actions back then.

It was during this long flowing conversation, that carried through dinner and continued afterwards, that Darcy began to realise what it was about Rebecca Featherstone that had caused Feathers to be willing to give up pretty much everything for her. Her physical presence was distinctly ordinary but her mind was everything but. Admittedly she did not possess Elizabeth's lively personality and joie de vivre, but she was every bit as intelligent, possibly more so. It was hard to tell, Rebecca was nowhere as widely educated as Elizabeth but what she did know, she had real depth in that subject.

Thus when Feathers had him play her at chess, after he lost the first game to Darcy, he was prepared for it. It was a close fought game, and Darcy narrowly won, if only because he took great care not to underestimate his opponent, assuming that most had done so. That he won and was very gracious about having done so appeared to win over the last of the reservations they had about him. Darcy then had to explain he had a natural advantage over most, as he had under estimated Elizabeth when he first played her. He'd lost that game as the result, and was now about even in the many games they played since. Having not told that part of his dealings with her, they were very interested in hearing the tale. As he told it, they laughed, understanding the incongruity of Darcy offering his queen as a handicap to someone that could beat him on a regular basis.

Ice now completely broken, they carried on talking well into the night, Darcy finally leaving well past midnight, joining a number of other gentlemen coming out of the various gaming hells in the neighbourhood, on their way home to the better parts of the city.

That was just the first of any number of nights Darcy visited the Featherstone's or later, invited them to Darcy House. To everyone's great delight, their friendship, which Darcy thought had been irretrievably severed and would have to be rebuilt slowly, picked up as if the separation had not ever happened, just with Rebecca included as an integral part of it now. Feathers was, as he always was, although with less hair, irrepressible, a keen thinker, but want to push logical arguments to their extreme, and an unashamed admirer of Jonathan Swift. And the more he learned of Rebecca, usually through observation or the stories told by her very proud husband, the more Darcy came to admire her character, and could see what motivated Isaac to make the choice he had. It was similar to how he had come to admire Elizabeth, even if it was in part for different characteristics. Rebecca was very compassionate, devout, and broad minded but also industrious, very caring for those in her parish or the dispossessed and added enormously to Isaac's own Christian mission in the area. She had a particular gift with children, which caused Darcy to feel a great deal of sympathy for them as a family, as they still had no children of their own, and he sensed a bittersweet tone to their statements when her any of work with children was mentioned.

Rebecca herself, made light of Darcy could only imagine was a very hard childhood, raised as she was in a London parish orphanage, where there was always more children than resources to care for them. What surprised Darcy was she was not raised a Methodist, which was what he thought was Isaac's reason for leaving the Anglican Church. The truth was more disturbing. Even prior to leaving Isaac had started to question the hypocrisy he saw within the Anglican hierarchy which was very unpopular, but the final severance came about because the church was complicit with his rejection by the ton. Darcy could not believe the Bishop for his parish came to see him and said he had to move him because he was no longer suitable to serve in that church because of complaints. When told that he was expected to resign and take up a post at a remote parish in Wales, Feathers dug his heels in and refused on principle. The bishop was unused to having his authority challenged in this way, and the subsequent argument led, through a series of unpleasant events, to Isaac quitting the Anglican Church entirely. After spending some time up north and falling in with the Methodist Church, it was due to a bequest from his godfather, that gave the Featherstone's enough of an income to be able to live and serve in London. Darcy had wondered at the lack of servants, there did not appear to be any, which was a difficult concept for Darcy to imagine, but they both seemed very happy with the arrangement, explaining that gave them more money for Christian charity.

* * *

><p>It took several visits, and the return of Georgiana before Darcy was finally able to meet Jane Bennet. True to his word, Darcy bought his sister around to be introduced soon after her arrival, but left the actual introductions to Mrs Gardener, as he made a strategic withdrawal to Mr Gardener's office to 'talk business'. In reality, it was just general conversation or speculation on how the ladies were getting on. But it was as Darcy had hoped, Georgiana was less shy around a sister of Elizabeth, and soon she and Jane became good friends as well.<p>

When he was finally able to talk to Jane, the first thing she did was to apologise for that night, explaining that Elizabeth had recently written correcting a number of things she had been told about him. That made sense to Darcy, and also gave him hope. If Elizabeth was willing to write to Jane to correct the misperceptions she had told her sister it must mean she softened her view of him, at least somewhat since his proposal, didn't it? He did wonder what and how Elizabeth had found out the correct information about him, but could only suppose that the truth will generally be found if the person was willing to consider it. He had definitely corrected her views during the argument during his offer, so that must have been what started her to question her beliefs, possibly afterwards asking Richard as he had suggested.

It was also very good to see Richard again, and while Darcy was keen to talk about everything he had learned, Richard was surprisingly closed lipped about what had happened in Ramsgate. Darcy tried to find out more from his sister, but Georgiana talked incessantly of Elizabeth this, and Amy-Jane that, even Elizabeth's friend Charlotte was mentioned a number of times, but Georgiana appeared to have been completely oblivious of her cousin or what he had been doing while in Ramsgate. When Richard was asked directly about Elizabeth, and whether she had asked about him, Richard's made a flippant comment about having done all that was necessary, but said nothing more, even when pressed. It was very vexing. Richard could usually be counted on to be quite loquacious, but Darcy could only assume his leg was still far more painful than he let on, as he had been generally dispirited ever since he returned.

Over yet more visits, Darcy was slowly able to tease out what had occurred in the days and weeks after he left for Ramsgate in such a rush. To his dismay, Darcy discovered, something confirmed by the Gardeners as he could not believe it at first, Bingley just stopped seeing her, with no explanation, not even a note. Jane's distress was as much caused by her worry that something dreadful had happened until she learned otherwise than his sudden disinterest in her. Darcy could not understand how his friend could treat the lady he still swore he loved more than any other so casually. Even talking with Caroline confirmed that Caroline had been against Jane from the very start, and fed Charles a litany of misleading and negative comments the entire time. Finding a time to talk to Louisa separately, she had difficulty in even remembering Miss Bennet at all, and had no opinion of her own, but appeared she had been happy to agree to whatever her sister had said.

By now Adams had returned. He said all Bingley had wanted to see him for was to exhort him to sell everything as fast as possible. Adams could not shed any new light on Bingley's demeanour, saying it was as it had always been recently. Adams did eventually get him to agree to most of the purchase programme they had prepared, apart for a few minor changes that involved Darcy paying less but a lot earlier. As he had no choice, unless he wanted to risk Bingley selling them elsewhere, and therefore making them unredeemable, Darcy made those arrangements.

With nothing left to do here, Darcy decided that he must go to Bingley and confront him, since ever more strident letters were not able to prize him out of Leeds.

* * *

><p>Darcy was tired and sore when he and Cicero arrived in Pudsey. The last part of his trip, heading north-west from Leeds, was conducted in near darkness. Darcy had hoped to have arrived in Leeds earlier, but having made it this far, he was loath to stop just short of his destination. You never got the same service in an inn as you did in the house of a friend. Straining to recognise any landmark in the almost nonexistent twilight, Darcy nearly rode past the turn off the main road into Moorfield Road.<p>

Seeing the lights of the Bingley residence just a little way up the road, Darcy spurred Cicero to a trot and, in that manner, rode down the side of house and into the yard at the rear. Leaping down in a final burst of energy, he handed over the reins to the groom that had just come out of the stable. Darcy grabbed the topmost saddlebag, told the groom to bring the others inside only after seeing to his horse, then staggered more than walked to the door.

Once inside the housekeeper was most apologetic, you see, the master was in Manchester but was expected back later tomorrow. Actually that suited Darcy very well. It gave him a night to recover before Bingley returned. That would not be necessary for Bingley, he had a trip of less than 50 miles, likely in a well sprung coach on good roads, rather than the 180 or so miles Darcy had rode in three days, as he really pushed it to get here. Darcy knew it normally took two at least days to get to Pemberley in good weather, and that was a little over 100 miles.

Requesting a light meal, a bath, and a bed, in that order, Darcy went into the parlour to wait.

Darcy woke late. Knowing he had still a few hours to wait before Bingley got back, Darcy first went to check on Cicero, who thankfully, showed no adverse effects from his long journey, before returning to the library to read something from Bingley's sparse collection to pass the time.

David Pearson came in and out several times, and Darcy and he reacquainted themselves, but David had work to do so could not stay to help Darcy pass the time.

* * *

><p>"Darcy! They said you were here, but I couldn't believe it."<p>

"It's me, in the flesh. Sorry, I did write, but I suspect I've either beaten the post, or it came while you were in Manchester." Darcy stood and shook hands with his friend. He noticed that Bingley still had that almost magical ability to finish travelling looking as fresh as when he started.

"Doesn't matter. How are you?"

"I am well Bingley. What about you? And I want the truth, not the usual platitudes."

"As well as I can be expected. Same as my last letter. Nothing's changed." Then he sighed and sat down as if he was a marionette whose strings had been cut. Darcy sat back down himself.

"So, no thoughts of returning to London anytime soon?"

"No! I'll not go back. Sorry Darcy, but the thought is too painful to contemplate."

"Because of a certain lady?"

"You, of all people, don't need to ask that question Darcy, of course because of Jane Bennet. My heart is still completely unhealed."

"But what if you learn that she cared for you, deeply, and likely still does."

"What? Don't tease me with false hope!"

"And if it is not false?"

"But how can you know it if I could not?"

"I did what you didn't. I talked to her."

"How dare you!"

"Easy. I dare because I care for you. And it was my advise that caused you to quit your suit."

"But I didn't rely on that." Darcy was relived he was not to blame, well not entirely to blame, as Charles continued, "I asked Caroline and Louisa, and they said..."

Charles was going to continue but Darcy had to interrupt. "Caroline? Bah! I'd no more trust her opinion than I would the Prince Regent's. You know she thinks that Georgiana is the only one suitable for you, but only because she thinks it would enhance her chance of marrying me?"

"I know she's always been angling after you. I've tried, how I've tried, to stop her making a fool of herself about it but she doesn't listen. And marry Georgiana? She's crazy. Georgie is as a sister to me, I'd no more think of marrying her than marrying my elderly spinster aunt."

"Glad to hear it. Although I am sure Georgiana sees you as a brother in return. I'd trust her with you as I'd trust myself."

"Thank you Darcy. But, I asked about Jane you see, and both of them confirmed it. And they seemed so certain of what they saw."

"Ignore Louisa, she just agrees with anything Caroline says. Once I found out about Miss bennet's feelings for you I checked. Louisa doesn't even remember Miss Bennet. So what did Caroline say she saw?"

"I didn't ask. I didn't think I needed to."

"I'm sure Caroline needed you not to. Just as I am certain she has no actual evidence, it was just repeating spiteful gossip."

"I know Caroline can play me false, but I didn't think she'd do it this time. She knew how close to offering I had grown.

"Believe it. And that knowledge would have made her more desperate and spiteful. You see she would be petrified I'd not marry her, if you had a tainted wife yourself."

"Oh dear, I've been such a fool. And you are certain Jane still has feelings for me, did she say so?"

"No she didn't. I can understand how you were not to know. I could not tell much, she hides her emotions so well, even though I knew to look."

"So if you couldn't tell, and she didn't say, how can you know? You're not sending me on a wild goose chase. My heart could not take a second blow like the first."

Darcy wasn't sure that he wanted to bare all, but after telling Grandmother then Feathers everything and even Mr Gardener a little of it, how could he conceal this from his best friend and confidant? So Darcy started, "Charles, you know how Jane had a sister that caused a scandal? Did Miss Bennet ever mention the name Elizabeth?"

"Yes, once or twice but blushed so furiously afterwards, I felt best not to ask further."

"Well, Jane has a sister, Elizabeth. Remember how I told you about Elizabeth Smith in Ramsgate, the lady that cared for Richard? Yes...? If you can believe it, she's Miss Bennet's scandalous sister..."

"No!"

"Yes, at the very time you were falling in love with one sister, I was doing the same with the other." Darcy paused to let Charles realise just what he had said.

"You what! Falling in love, but isn't she...?"

"Yes. I am in love, and yes, she is. Look it all started..." Darcy went on to explain how at first he resisted his attraction to Elizabeth, then while recognising it did not want to act on it, to deciding to offer but waiting until Georgiana was settled, then too impatient to wait made and offer, explaining most of what was said in his disastrous proposal (that got the first verbal reaction out of Charles, the rest before and after was spent in stunned silence), and finally what had happened afterwards.

"... and so I've now spent many an enjoyable meeting with the Gardeners, either there repaying the hospitality by hosting them at Darcy House. So I suppose that is another thing I have to apologise to you for. You did say I would enjoy their company, but I was too proud to consider it."

"I knew you would. It was a little insulting that you thought they would be good enough for me but not you."

"I didn't think of it like that, but that is entirely my failing, too proud by half. No, don't you be in too much of a hurry to agree with me."

That just provoked a laugh out of Charles.

"So Bingley. Now you know how I found out Jane's regard for you, and the why as well, does that not give you hope? I have need of you also. I have to travel west, almost to Wales for a week and then as soon as I'm back it's Easter and off to Rosings Park for a least two weeks more. That leaves Georgiana in London by herself, as you know I don't risk her visiting Aunt Catherine. There would be no one else I'd trust than you."

"But what about your cousin?"

"He's fully recovered, or so he says, so he'll be back at his regiment by now. Anyway he's agreed to come with me to Rosings as he's in England this year."

"Very well Darcy, sure I could come back to London, but there is a lot of work to do here."

"Any of it you can't leave to David Pearson?"

"Well no, but then what do I do in London? I no longer have any investments there."

"You could buy them back from those you sold them to."

"And pay their real value this time. No, I'd lose most of the return if I did that."

"You might find the buyers would be willing to sell at a price that just includes a fair compensation for the cost of sale. Ask them."

"I couldn't ask. What would I say? 'Please, I've just made a huge mistake and sold you very valuable investments at rock bottom prices, can you be as foolish as I was and sell them back to me for about the same price?"

"Well, I'd expect you to have been a bit more tactful, but you just have."

"Have what?"

"Just asked most of the buyers if they'd sell them back to you." Darcy paused for Charles to catch up.

"...But... Hold on... You bought them!"

"Yes."

"You absolute cad!"

"What! Why?"

"Taking advantage of me quitting them at cheap prices..."

Their conversation thus descended into a good natured argument, one that re-established the warmth and closeness that these last few months had strained.

That night Darcy went to bed happy. Bingley had agreed to buy back everything at better terms than he should, but as he explained, there should be at least some penalty for stupidity such as he had shown. Most importantly, as this was the reason for his long unpleasant ride, Bingley would be returning to London in four days time, although much more pleasantly in Bingley coach. The few days before departure Darcy even had the opportunity to see if anything that Charles was doing here would be worth looking into, since he would now have funds to invest if he wanted to.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

**Just one thing. I read each chapter to my my wife, who is my best critic and greatest inspiration, prior to publishing. That way I find many of the mistakes before pushing the 'publish' button. She did find where I wrote the advice to Darcy from his Grandmother - the bit with **"But a good marriage, good mind you, not just long serving, is where both the husband and wife's views are considered."** etc. highly amusing, and I got a look from her with her eyebrows raised at the audacity of me even writing it.**


	49. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 14

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 14**

Elizabeth sat for what felt like the longest time, just staring at the door that Charlotte had rushed out of, not sure what to think. She certainly was prepared for a number of improper offers, and even got used to a number of proper ones from gentlemen that she had not ever considered marrying. She'd always considered herself not that much of a prize, marriage wise, but compared to Charlotte? Considering the number of offers she'd had, she was a veritable rosette winner.

Elizabeth had not ever considered Charlotte's situation. What would it be like to never have an offer? To be passed over, ignored and unwanted. And then have her nose rubbed in it by a few careless comments by someone that professed to be her best friend. Elizabeth had been grateful for Charlotte's understanding of her own mistakes regarding Mr Darcy, and then, however unintended, she shown none of the same consideration to Charlotte. Wasn't her automatic assumption of further offers a form of conceit? Pride in her infallible discernment of character had caused her complete mistake Mr Darcy's character. And now she had selfishly ignored her best friend's pain. While the nature of the conversation illustrated the depth of Charlotte's pain, Elizabeth still had not bothered to discover if Richard and Charlotte had come to an understanding, something that Charlotte's excited behaviour or Richard's cryptic statements suggested could have occurred, either then or at any time over the previous week. Was that not a form of arrogance, her own feeling of loss with Georgiana and Richard's departure more important than the state of Charlotte heart? Well, there it was; arrogance, pride and conceit, the very three things that she'd accuse Mr Darcy of. The irony would have been amusing had it not been that this had caused further hurt to Charlotte's battered heart.

There would have been, must have been, any number of opportunities to talk to Charlotte, but she was too wrapped in herself to even notice Charlotte's own misery. What sort of friend did that make her? Elizabeth was now ashamed of herself, and wondered what she could do to make up for this neglect. But nothing came to mind before Amy-Jane interrupted her thoughts, by wanting attention after waking from an afternoon nap.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth only had the opportunity to apologise two days later, as the intervening days were too busy to find time to be alone with Charlotte. Once again it was as Amy-Jane was asleep that Elizabeth asked, "Charlotte, do you want some tea and a few scones. We can have it in the parlour." Noticing that Charlotte, who was still acting frosty towards her, looked reluctant, she added, "Please?"<p>

Charlotte nodded and went to put on the kettle.

"Charlotte. I've realised that I've been very selfish and have ignored you dreadfully. I am so sorry. I should have been far more sympathetic to your situation. Can you forgive me?"

"Oh, Lizzie, of course I forgive you, if you will me also. I don't hate you. I don't know why I said that."

"I don't blame you, I was very insensitive. I was only thinking of myself, not of you at all. So it was really my fault, you were provoked."

"But I still shouldn't have said it. It was just… Oh Lizzie, he didn't… he didn't ask…" Charlotte leant on the table and burst into tears. Her shoulders slumped as she collapsed in on herself and sobbed deeply. Elizabeth dropped the scone she was buttering and rushed over to her, turning her to face and wrapping her in a strong hug, and just held her.

Charlotte was still inconsolable when the kettle whistled. Elizabeth stretched out but couldn't quite reach the handle. After what seemed like an age, Elizabeth could not stand the loud high pitched whistle anymore, so she carefully shuffled Charlotte left, close enough to reach out and lift the kettle off the hot plate, to her relief. The sudden silence seemed to prompt Charlotte to regain her composure as well.

"Sorry Lizzie. I don't know where that came from." Said Charlotte, as she disengaged and sat at the table.

"No. Don't apologise. I do understand, really I do."

Elizabeth pulled a chair over to sit alongside her and put her arm over Charlotte's shoulder.

"But I really thought he'd ask, Lizzie, I did. Was I so very wrong?"

"No. Actually so did I. There were several comments that strongly hinted he would."

"So why Lizzie? What's wrong with me?"

"Don't think that Charlotte. I'm sure he considered it, seriously considered it. But he is not his own master, you know that don't you?"

"What do you mean? He's a colonel, the son of an Earl, he could have any woman he wanted."

"In some ways that could make it harder for him. He's used to a life of luxury, but everything is likely to be entailed on his brother, I doubt he'd get anything other than an allowance. He once told me his father would not let him marry an heiress with less than fifty thousand pounds."

"Fifty thousand! Oh dear…" Charlotte began to cry again.

"Shh dear Charlotte, it was said half in jest, but yes, there was a bitterness to his remarks that suggested it was more truth, and more painful to think of, than he let on. He mentioned he would expect to be sold off to some wealthy heiress to improve her family's connections, with little or no choice on his part. It would be that or cut off. Military pay is a lot less than most realise, although we can see the effect of that here in Ramsgate."

"Oh the poor man! How terrible for him." Elizabeth could not see how her friend had sympathy for the man that had just broken her heart, but this must be love in action. Still it stopped her tears.

Elizabeth continued, "I doubt it would be that bad, but I suspect however much he wanted to, this would have held him back. You can at least have that consolation." She didn't really believe this, but hoped that it would help her friend. While she would never put economic considerations in front of love, but Charlotte was self-confessed to be of a different mind.

"But of course. I had not thought of that. Thank you Lizzie, I had not realised. Makes perfect sense, really, quite prudent of him, don't you think?"

Now this made Elizabeth mad. "If he'd been truly prudent he would have taken more care not to raise your expectations as he did! He toyed with your heart, Charlotte."

"He could not help it Lizzie. I don't blame him, honestly I don't. He can't fight his family. I would not ask it of him. My happiness is nothing to his. Even if he did ask now I'd have to refuse, to save him from himself. He deserves a far better wife than I. What could I offer him? No, it is better this way."

Elizabeth wanted to shake her. How she wished she'd never told Charlotte of his need to marry well. That she did not value herself even a little, it was almost impossible to comprehend.

"Don't think of yourself like that Charlotte, you have a great deal to offer. To any gentleman, who ever his family is."

"No he was right. I am proud to have known him, proud to at least make him consider a future of us together, but no, I understand my position in life Lizzie. In fact, I've known it for years now. I've just refused to accept it."

"What do you mean Charlotte? There is someone out there for you. I know it?"

"I wish I had your confidence Lizzie."

"Don't doubt it Charlotte, you have qualities even an idiot would have to be blind not to see."

"But it'd take an idiot to offer someone as plain and with so little a potion as I. But if an idiot proposed, I would accept him."

"No don't take my words to mean you should accept an idiot, I mean that only a blind man could not see your finer points."

"Maybe a blind man would be better, he'd not notice how plain I am."

"You are not plain. You… You dress well."

"Be honest Lizzie. Dress well… See your honesty does not allow you to say I am anything but plain."

"But looks are not everything. Did you meet Lady Sophie, Richard's younger sister? No, I suppose you didn't. She had looks, but nothing else. I pity the man that can't see past the pretty façade, and marries her, honestly I do."

"Still, without some looks, how can a woman attract a man in the first place?"

"You did. Richard looked." Elizabeth noticed Charlotte blushed strongly at this, and wondered what that was about, "and once he looked, he saw past the exterior. I am sure he admired the woman he then got to know. Pity both your circumstances were not just a bit different."

"Maybe Lizzie, you could arrange for someone else, a little less elevated to get shot, so when I nurse him it might end in a better outcome."

"Any ideas? Another army officer or maybe swap to a naval man this time?"

"Don't really care, maybe a little stupid. That would actually help. Even an idiot, but not a drooling one."

"So idiots are fine? What about man that drools, but is not an idiot."

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"The size of his estate, of course…"

Let's just say the conversation slowly grew sillier from there, with more and outlandish defects and deformities, missing limbs or facilities, and all the combinations thereof, until a newly awoken Amy-Jane came in to demand her share of her mother's attention, which was all of it.

While that conversation was fun, and appeared to lift Charlotte's heavy heart a great deal, Elizabeth was worried how much of it was actually in jest. While it was her friend's life to live, Elizabeth hoped that somehow Charlotte would not accept an unsuitable man, just to be married, as she deserves better. But, as Elizabeth was already well aware of, what you deserve and what you actually get can be different, and at times, very different, indeed.

* * *

><p>It was later that night, after putting Amy-Jane to bed, and changing into her own night clothes, Elizabeth went into Charlotte's room, finding her already in bed.<p>

"How are you Charlotte?"

"I'm fine Lizzie. Sorry I was quiet after dinner. I've been thinking of my future."

"Have you? So have I. I've realised I've not told you, but you first."

"Nothing really to say, I haven't decided anything yet."

"So what were you thinking about?"

"It's not important. You want to tell me your news, I can tell. So, out with it."

"Only if you let me know what you are thinking afterwards. Promise?"

"Promise."

"I'll hold you to that. So…"

With that introduction Elizabeth hopped up on the end of the bed and laid out, in a dramatic pose, throwing her hand back and resting the back of her wrist on her forehead.

In a stage whisper she leaned forward, breaking her pose. "Think of me as a Juliet, no as that girl, Marianne from Sense and Sensibility." Before lying back into the pose again. "Oh woe is me. It's the fifth anniversary of my learning of the death of my dear departed Mr Smith. I loved him with a passion that the years have not diminished. So I live out my widowed existence here in Ramsgate, waiting without hope for his return. A return that will never occur."

"Widow Smith! But I thought…"

"Yes, well…" Elizabeth sat up again and hugged her legs. "…As much as I hate to admit it, Mrs Carter was right. Even you suggested being a widow at the time I recall. Well… I recently overheard two ladies talk about Amy-Jane as if she was no better than I. I can bear it for myself, but it's not a cross that she needs to carry."

"Don't listen to the vicious gossip of a couple of nasty old ladies, they don't know you or her."

"That is the problem Charlotte. I know who they are, they know me well enough, and Amy-Jane. They even stopped their sons playing with Billy because of it. To be totally honest, it was a decision I made five years ago, for what I thought was the right reasons. And if it was just me, it would still be fine, but I have Amy-Jane to think of. It showed me that as she grows up, without the protection of a father, my long departed husband, she would be prey to all the… the Wickham's, out there. I cannot have that happen. You can see that can't you?"

"Yes of course I can. Which was why I suppose I would have suggested it at the time, but you seemed to know best. You were always smarter than I. You had good reasons. I remember you wrote to me with them. They made perfect sense."

"Yes. And in some way they still do. But being smart or right will provide me no solace when Amy-Jane is rejected and scorned for no reason than the circumstances of her conception. So a widow I've become. I suppose it won't make too much difference to you, as it will still mean travel, but Mrs Carter, Amy-Jane and I will be going to Lambton to live. We are likely to go this summer to find a house and then be shifted by Christmas."

"She'll do that for you?"

"Actually she's wanted to leave for years, but stayed for me, only because I was settled here."

"And now you want to move?"

"Not really, however my sudden conversion to a long widowed woman is not going to be believed here, but in another town my history can be whatever I want it to be. Mrs Carter already has written about me to her friends there as a widow, fortuitous really, however annoyed it made me at the time. And because Mr Smith's been long dead, I don't even have to wear widow's weeds for him."

"So who was the lucky man? Did I get to meet him?"

"Sadly no. I thought it best to have a history that explains at least some of who and why I came here, you know, just in case."

"In case what?"

"In case someone knows of the Bennet scandal via my Aunt and Uncle, which could well be a possibility. So there has to be a scandal of sorts."

"A scandal? No, not that…"

"No. Not that."

"So what have you invented?"

"Well, Mrs Carter made a few suggestions, but I think I've come up with something that fits very well, even for people that knew me from my trips with my Aunt and Uncle as a child."

"And…"

"So, it is all as it actually happened, Jane and I go with my parents to London. But I decide I want to see India, where some of Uncle Edward's cotton comes from. Yes? Yes. But papa says '_No it is not a suitable trip for a young girl_'. But I didn't want to take no for an answer."

"You wouldn't."

"See how believable it is? Anyway, I didn't take no for an answer, I stole, no borrowed, some boys clothes, cut off… no tucked my hair up inside my cap and ran off to sea."

"You didn't!"

"Yes I did, but I got caught. The ship was going to India, eventually, but only after sailing to Portsmouth first. So there I was, exposed as a girl, right in the middle of the English Channel. Horribly compromised. Ruined. Disgraced."

"Oh no!"

"So that is where dear Mr Smith came to my rescue. Proposed marriage to me on the spot. He was a handsome devil, and had been kind to me and, since I was in a spot of bother, I accepted his offer. Now this an important bit. The Captain married us, so the marriage lines are in the ships log."

"Why is that important?"

"It becomes important later. So there I was, now a married woman. With Mr Smith and I having one month's shore leave while they did something… boaty with the ship."

"What?"

"How should I know? I don't know everything. I don't know, keeling the mast or something. Mr Smith explained it to me but it was so long ago. Anyway we had a month of bliss."

"Bliss?"

"Well if I'm going to make up a marriage, I might as well make it a happy one ."

"True."

"So sometime in that wonderful month... Oh, it also explains why I've not remarried. Wearing the willow for him you see."

"Of course."

"Yes, well, not that much though, not to want to only wear black. Anyway, that's how I have Amy-Jane, but then he left, as naval men do, back to Portsmouth and his ship, and then on to India."

"Why didn't he take you with him?"

"Apparently it's bad luck for women to be on board, although some captains take their wives with them. Not sure how the whole luck thing works out for a wife, but Mr Smith was a lowly second lieutenant and would never be allowed to take me. And that was a good thing, see, when he got to India he died of malaria in Bombay. The captain sent me a letter of condolence to tell me."

"No, not sick like that, that's not heroic."

"But that's the point, I don't want him to have died heroically, someone might expect him to be remembered because of that."

"But what will Amy-Jane think? No, he doesn't have to be very heroic, just brave. Tell her he died fighting in a battle with a French frigate. They don't have to have sunk it. I'm sure they don't always sink each other, and one or the other gets to sail off. He then can be proud of a father that fought and died for his country. You would still have got a letter."

"You're right, will help against any that would tease her for not having a father. So the, captain wrote his condolence letter and sent it as soon as the ship arrived in India.

"What's the ship's name?"

"I don't know. I never thought about making up a name for it. How about I just say I knew its name but I've forgotten it?"

"But it would be on the letter, wouldn't it?"

"Ah, hadn't thought of that. Do you think I have to create a letter as well?"

"Wouldn't hurt. Maybe get your Uncle to write it, so it's in a masculine hand. He must see any number of letters from seafarers, so could do something that uses the right words."

"That's a good idea. I'm sure he'd do it for me, if I ask him nicely… Hmm, maybe next time I'm in London I could look up a ship that sank at the right time."

"But Mr Smith is already dead, why does the ship need to sink?"

"Ah. Remember how I said it was important the marriage was in the ship's log? Well, if the ship then sinks before arriving back in England, it's tragically lost at sea, then the ship's log went down with the ship. So that is why there is no record of the marriage."

"That makes sense, but why then did he die before the ship was lost? Why not just have him go down with the ship?"

"I have thought about it and thought about it, but I am still not sure whether I'll eventually tell Amy-Jane the truth, and the man she thinks of as her father is an invention. What if she hates me because of it? Maybe I won't tell her, maybe I will. So if there is already a letter confirming he died before the ship is lost in a storm, she'll never think maybe he survived, and go off to search for him, or something. I don't know, probably one of those irrational fears mothers get sometimes."

"Looks like you have it all worked out."

"Yes. Even that he was an orphan so there is no Smith family to worry about, same as my scandal explains the..."

"No Lizzie! Not an orphan. That won't work."

"What? Why?"

"If you are pretending to be a widow to give Amy-Jane respectability then don't give her an orphan as a father. He could be anyone. They'll all think he's illegitimate himself, which is just about as bad for Amy-Jane as them knowing her real history."

"Oh." Elizabeth felt her hopes dissipate. She'd been so certain this story would've solved Amy-Jane's future problems.

"Don't worry Lizzie. Make it that he is the same as you. You know, he ran off to sea as well. His father was a drunk… not don't say that, no, better say he and his father are estranged because the father wanted him to join the church, but he wanted to help defend England, and ran off to sea. That way his father can be a gentleman from the north, making Mr Smith perfectly respectable as well."

"Hey, that's good Charlotte, yes that'll work, he's from somewhere close to the Scottish border, up past Newcastle, what do you think? Yes… Good and he promised me that he'd let me know more about his family once he returned and we could go visit them, so I know nothing of their direction. Yes! Charlotte, you're a genius. Thank you." Elizabeth leant forward and gave her a brief hug and went to get off the bed.

"Don't go yet Lizzie. You forgot to tell me what he looked like."

So Elizabeth described her theoretical 'handsome devil' which Charlotte found very amusing. It was only later, after telling Mrs Carter and in her next letter to Jane, that Elizabeth realised she had described Mr Darcy almost exactly, other than making him shorter, which caused her to blush furiously, even though at the time she was alone in her room.

Description over, Charlotte had no further questions. Elizabeth climbed off the bed, and walked to the door, just before leaving, she realised that with all the questions Charlotte had not said what was on her mind. "Good one Charlotte, you've just about had me leave without you telling me what you've been thinking." Hopping back on the bed, Elizabeth continued. "So, what is it?"

"Elizabeth, promise you won't be upset with me?"

"Of course… Fine, yes I promise. Well?"

"I can't keep hoping like this Lizzie I can't…" Charlotte's distress was plainly written across her features. "I'm… it's just too hard. I can't keep hoping for someone, for Richard to offer. It won't happen now I know it won't."

"Oh Charlotte, you can't know that, he's only just left, give him some time to miss you. You know they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"That's only something they say to women like me when the gentleman leaves you with nothing. No I know he won't, for all the reasons we talked of yesterday. No. It is time for me to put on a lace cap and retire to the back of the dance hall with all the other matrons and spinsters."

"No, give it time. Remember Mr Darcy was just about not speaking to me when we went to London together, but when he came back after a month, the first time he found me alone he offered, so it is true. Please Charlotte, if he does return and finds you in a lace cap, and that puts him off? I don't know, but is it worth the risk?"

"You know I have to return home soon, now that our patient has gone. Father was quite insistent in his last letter. He's saying I have to be back before Easter, as Mother wants me to help keep an eye on Maria, now she is about to come out. So you know I'll never see him again. What possible reason could he have for visiting Meryton?"

"At least give him until the end of the season Charlotte. If he wants to, he'll find a reason."

"Oh Lizzie, it's hopeless. What can I offer any man? The smallest of portions, no connections, not even looks to make up for it. No, don't make me hope in vain. Better to accept that I'll always be a spinster aunt to my nieces and nephews. If George's wife even lets me live with them once Father is gone. Otherwise I will have to rely on whatever Tom is able to make of his life, or who Maria is able to catch. Always the extra mouth to feed, body to clothe. Better to put on a lace cap and get used to it now. I just hope I can help Maria find someone for her even as I couldn't for me." Charlotte's despairing expression made Elizabeth's own heart ache and she reached over and clasped her hand. Knowing from having been in similar states before, there was likely nothing that could be said that Charlotte would consider, so she just sat there in companionable silence.

A little while later, Elizabeth suddenly realised she had at least something that might give Charlotte something to be cheerful about and, more importantly put her in the path of Richard occasionally, he would have to visit Pemberley once in a while. "Charlotte, how would like to come to live with us in Lambton?"

"What?"

"You know, when we all move to Lambton towards the end of this year, you can come with us. I am sure we can find a house that will fit another in just as easily. Say yes Charlotte, please say yes."

"But what about the cost, it would cost both of you as much as my family, at least George is keeping up the family business."

"We don't need much. Maybe talk with your father about a small annuity. He knows of the antagonism between you and Harriet Long, so he'll understand, I'm sure he will."

"I don't know Lizzie. What if we fall out?"

"We've been together all this time and been fine. And Amy-Jane will love to have her Godmother always around as well, I know it. Please say yes, or at least say you'll talk to your Father about it."

"Can I think about it? It's a big step."

"Sure, but promise me, you'll give it serious consideration."

"Yes I will. It might take a few days, will you not pressure me until I've decided." Elizabeth was very pleased to notice that Charlotte's expression was looking a lot more positive.

"As much as I want to convince you to come, yes I promise to give you the time to come to your own decision, but only if you promise not put on a lace cap until at least the end of the year. By that stage I'm sure you'll be coming with us."

"I promise."

Elizabeth smiled broadly and slid off the bed. "It's late, and you have a lot to think about. I'm off to bed now. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight Lizzie."

"Night Charlotte."

Then just about out the door, Elizabeth turned back towards her friend she asked, "Charlotte, one more thing. This just might help cheer you up a bit as well... How about tomorrow we both go to buy me a cheap ring I can pretend is my wedding band?"

* * *

><p>The next few days were a real struggle for Elizabeth not to break her promise of not trying to talk Charlotte into coming with them, as the more she thought about it, the more she wanted it to happen. Elizabeth also saw that once in Lambton, she might convince Charlotte to delay entering spinsterhood at least a year or two more. There might be another gentleman willing to offer, if Elizabeth could not prompt Richard to come to the point, given that once Charlotte was in Lambton he'd have so many more opportunities to meet her and see more of what attracted him to her in the first place.<p>

At the end of the first frustrating day of having to be silent, Elizabeth realised she'd never promised not to tell Mrs Carter. So that night she went into to see her and explained about the possibilities for Charlotte's future. Mrs Carter was pleasingly enthusiastic about the prospect, and when Elizabeth explained that she was not allowed to say anything, but made no promise for her, Mrs Carter smiled and said to leave it to her. Later Elizabeth listened with a good deal of admiration as Mrs Carter subtly steered any conversation to talk of pleasant memories of Lambton or various friends she still had in the area, noticing how this led to Charlotte taking an active interest in the town and its environs.

Whatever the cause, Mrs Cart's reminiscences, or her own deliberations, Charlotte announced that she was also keen to join them in Lambton, if they would be willing to have her. Both Elizabeth and Mrs Carter agreed to this very quickly with a great deal of enthusiasm. The remaining evening was spent celebrating this decision by all concerned.

The next morning, still in an ebullient mood, Elizabeth received a letter of invitation from Georgiana, almost begging her to visit. As she explained, she would be on her own for some time as her brother was away visiting a friend in the north of England, but as soon as he returned he would be away to Wales, before returning to London and then away again for at least three weeks visiting their aunt over Easter, leaving her on her own for such a long time. A time she'd not survive without her dearest friend to keep her company. As an additional incentive, Georgiana had asked Jane as well, who only waited her sister's agreement to say yes. Not only relying on that, Georgiana added the inducement that if Elizabeth was agreeable, she should be able to send the Darcy coach to pick them up and return them to Ramsgate, and this offer included transportation of Mrs Carter and Charlotte as well.

With such care taken to entice her to London Elizabeth could do nothing but reply in the affirmative, including both Charlotte's and Mrs Carter's heartfelt thanks, although requesting an arrival date that put it hopefully, if correctly guessing at Mr Darcy's movements, after he had left for Kent. Ashamed of how she treated him, Elizabeth realised that he must dislike her now as much as she had him last year. How could he not, with the way she had flung his offer back in his face, including all those nasty accusations, she thought were completely justified, but that was before she realised how generous and honourable he really was. So she did not want to antagonise him with her presence, when this little bit of planning would avoid aggravating him at all.

Elizabeth also was quick to write to Jane, to let her know of what she had proposed to Georgiana and to find out more of how Jane and Georgiana could have been introduced to each other. She hoped that a series of direct questions might make Jane be more considerate in her writing, as her letters still were exercises in brevity and blandishments.

This offer had another, if unexpected, bonus as it allowed Charlotte to argue for a delay of her return to Meryton for at least as long the Darcy's coach trip to London, countering her parent's increasingly strident demands for her to leave. The honour of this, and more likely the bragging rights quipped Elizabeth, meant Charlotte's parent's next letter insisted she stay to take advantage of the offer, although they did expect her to return from London as soon as it could be arranged once there.

Georgiana's eagerly awaited next letter came about a week later, explaining that after her brother arrived back he agreed to their use of the coach that very evening, before he headed off again in the early morning hours of the very next day. To Elizabeth's great relief, Georgiana had agreed to the delay in their arrival, to the date she had requested.

The week remaining was spent keeping busy while trying to contain their own and especially Amy-Jane's excitement for the coming trip, although this was tempered with the sadness that this also meant Charlotte's departure.

* * *

><p>The trip in the Darcy coach was as pleasant as they all expected, their smooth travel assisted by the milder weather heralded by the start of spring. While there was much to remember about this trip, taken in much more enjoyable circumstances than the last, one incident particularly stuck in Elizabeth's mind.<p>

It came about because they left Ramsgate late morning, as Mrs Carter was a ditherer, and stayed the night in Canterbury rather than further on as originally planned. It was the next morning, Elizabeth managed to get them on the road early enough to make London before dark, and was riding up with Wilkins, the others having gone back to sleep, and Mrs Carter snoring had driven Elizabeth out of the close confines of the carriage. How the others slept through it, Elizabeth had no idea. In any case, it gave her a ready excuse to break strongly with convention and ride atop, alongside the coachman. Initially Elizabeth just enjoyed the feel of wind through her hair and the added view the extra height gave, but now she had the added pleasure of being instructed in the finer art of driving a coach. After what was only a disappointingly short time, Wilkins re-gathered the reins before pointing out an inn they were just passing.

"Mrs Smith, remember that place do you? You stayed there last time."

"Yes I remember that trip."

"Were you as disappointed with that night as the Master?"

"If you are talking about my sleep being disturbed, yes I was."

"He was mighty displeased, more with himself than me, even though I'd recommended it to him. Although he was the one that chose not to take the rooms at the back of the place thinking that they was going to be noisy, being next the stables and all, so took the ones at the front of the house instead. 'ow was he to know some foxed gen'leman and his doxy was to take the room next to you both?"

Hearing this, Elizabeth realised her only remaining example of Mr Darcy's possibly immorality was as false as all the others, was shamed to silence. It appeared Wilkins took this to mean she wanted to hear more.

"I blame the owner myself, he should've know they'd be like that, I'm sure them being locals and all, and sent the noisy buggers… oh pardon me… the noisy pair to them back rooms, or at least the other end of the hall from you. I 'eard them all the way from the common room! It were the owner that should have apologised to you not Mr Darcy. Takes too much on 'imself he does. I only pointed it out 'cause I owe you an apology me-self for recommending the blasted inn in the first place. I supposed I'd not thought of it if you weren't riding up here, but as you is, will you forgive me Mrs Smith?"

"Of course I will. Nothing really to forgive, it was not as if you or Mr Darcy had any control over any other guests. Think nothing more of it… Now we've got that out of the way, any chance of getting another go with the reins?"

* * *

><p>Thankfully, either by good luck (which was Charlotte's assessment once she found out) or Elizabeth's own ability (her own view of the matter) or Wilkins' good teaching (Mrs Carter's more realistic assessment, although she was more than a little displeased at Elizabeth's improper display) they arrived in London, having spent two very enjoyable days together, entirely in one piece.<p>

Now, having swapped Mrs Carter for Jane, the four of them were on their way to Darcy house at last. Elizabeth felt considerable nervousness. What if she had misjudged the timing and Mr Darcy was there? Or maybe his trip had been delayed or cancelled. What then? She was trying to think of a plausible excuse to turn back and stay with the Gardiner's, however cramped that would be, when the coach stopped and a Jane looked out the window and confirmed they'd arrived.

Elizabeth was last out, and as she descended she looked up. Oh Good Lord, was this where Georgiana and Mr Darcy lived? She always knew the Darcy's were wealthier as they owned a larger property than her father's modest estate at Longborn, but this was a different level entirely, as evidenced by the width and height of the imposing façade, the liveried footmen (men! not man) already assisting to unload the coach, the rather imposing butler standing impassively at the front door, its situation in one of the best if not the best area of London and a myriad of other smaller things that just were not possible without income well in excess of what she remembed of her father's.

Elizabeth almost stumbled down the coach's steps as she paid so little attention to what she was actually doing. It was both very humbling and a little exhilarating to think that Darcy wanted her enough to propose, when he clearly would attract pursuit from all but the highest eligible daughters of the ton. It also explain a little of his certainty of her positive reception to it. Realising she was staring Elizabeth rushed up the stairs to catch up to join the others. As she did so, she noticed a wry smile from the Butler, before he ushered them all upstairs to where Georgiana was waiting.

* * *

><p>Four weeks later, back at her favourite thinking spot at the very end of the Ramsgate's east pier, Elizabeth stood, arms clasped around herself thinking of the weeks just been. Remembering how nervous she'd been on arrival, in hindsight, how silly those fears had been.<p>

Her main fear of meeting Darcy was unfounded, he was in Kent, just as Georgiana letter had stated, and stayed there the entire three weeks Elizabeth visited Georgiana. Her only disappointment was their cousin Richard had gone with him, as Elizabeth had hoped to engineer an accidental meeting between him and Charlotte before she got to return home.

Another fear was cleared up as soon as Elizabeth had a few moments undisturbed with Georgiana and she told Georgiana of her news. First it was her likely move to Lambton. After the Georgiana had stopped squealing in joy and gave Elizabeth chance to carry on, she was then able to explain her recent decision to 'become' a widow, and asked her to promise to keep her secret, even from her brother and cousin. Elizabeth was a little afraid that the well demonstrated Darcy propensity for honesty would prevent Georgiana from going along with it. But she was only too happy to introduce her as a widow to those she knew back in Derbyshire, and in fact, admired her ring while pestering Elizabeth for details of her fictitious husband. Thankfully the sister did not notice the similarity between Mr Smith's description and her brother, as Elizabeth, having now told several people of Mr Smith's description, had to continue with it as it was now an established 'fact'.

Her last fear was that, now Georgiana was at home, she would display the arrogance Elizabeth had observed at times from her brother, or lord it over her visitors, showing off their considerable difference in status. But, unlike some Elizabeth had known, Georgiana was as warm and welcoming as she always was. An example of Georgiana's continued generosity occurred the very first day. When discovering they were going to purchase a ticket for Charlotte to return home on the stage, Georgiana insisted Charlotte use the Darcy coach. As that meant a delay of a few days to let the horses rest, they were all happy to agree. Elizabeth was certain Charlotte's parent's agreed to it because being actually dropped off home by private coach would be far better than just telling everyone she travelled to London in one, than anything to do with saving the cost of a fare, which was the reason given in their letter.

But the best example of the Darcy generosity was displayed a few days after Charlotte left. It so happened that Amy-Jane's birthday fell on the Saturday after Good Friday, but as they were visiting Elizabeth had not arranged to do anything special at the Darcy's, reserving that for a visit later that day to the Gardiner's. By this stage, unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Amy-Jane had already became the darling of all those that served downstairs, so when Georgiana learned of it, she talked to Mrs Taylor and the entire staff collectively pulled of a huge surprise birthday party in the morning, with small gifts from everyone there, which led to a very excited young girl and a mother reduced to tears.

Over the weeks, Elizabeth had numerous opportunities to talk with the Darcy servants. They all spoke of the Darcy family's care and generosity towards them, and of a master that took a personal interest in their own success, even going as far as finding them positions in other households where there was no chance of promotion within his household.

One these conversations stood out more than the others. It was in a discussion with Mrs Taylor, where Elizabeth mentioned Richard's name, that Elizabeth learned, while the Colonel was welcome at any time, in fact there was a room set aside for him on the second floor, his brother had been banned for a number of years. This antagonism between her master and his cousin went as far as having family occasions set up so Mr Darcy and the Viscount would not meet. Later, from Hannah, who was far too open with her history than she probably should be, Elizabeth learned that Hannah's daughter Lisa was Amy-Jane's half-sister, although she had the sense not tell Hannah of this fact. And Hannah was not the only woman ruined by the Viscount that Darcy had rescued. Hannah knew of at least one other, and there were rumours of several more in Pemberley. The injustice of her accusation that Darcy was just like his cousin hit her full force at that moment, although thankfully Hannah took her tears to be a reaction of learning of her own situation, so Elizabeth did not have to explain it.

But the most remarkable thing that happened during their stay happened the Wednesday after Easter. Elizabeth had heard a couple of times in the week prior, while in the hall or on the stairs, a gentleman, who seemed awfully familiar with the Darcy house and talked quite informally with the Darcy Butler, Steele, mention he'd just come in to see how Georgiana was doing. On hearing that she was enjoying the company of her visitors, he seemed happy with this and left again. Concerned with this level of familiarity with young girl that was not yet out, Elizabeth tried to get to see who this man was, but the best she managed was the glimpse of a gentleman in a well-tailored morning coat and beaver departing out the front door.

But on that Wednesday, it was Georgiana in the hall when the mystery gentleman called and convinced him, abet by dragging a very sheepish Charles Bingley bodily into the parlour. Poor Georgiana, who had been doing a fine job up to that point of getting the reluctant Charles to follow her, (by grabbing his hand in the hall and not letting go until he followed her to meet her new friends), was suddenly halted in her tracks as her tow stopped dead as soon as he recognised who he was about to be introduced to. Even now, Elizabeth would not want to have to pick which of Charles or Jane blushed the strongest red.

To say that the first few minutes were awkward would be an understatement. Georgiana was almost reduced to tears, thinking she'd done something unforgivable, so Elizabeth left her sister and Mr Bingley to sort themselves out, while she tried to explain how the embarrassment could be none of Georgiana's doing. But, somehow, leaving the other two their own was the best possible choice, as it was not an hour before Charles and Jane were back on the best of terms, as if nothing had happened. To Elizabeth's annoyance, she was not able to discover from Jane just what he had said in defence of his actions, if Jane had made him grovel before she forgave him or even if she'd even given him a mild rebuke, let alone a full dressing down. In Jane's guarded manner, all she would say is that both acknowledged they made mistakes and that it would not happen again.

But Elizabeth left London with the relief that at least her sister's future was once again looking positive, even if there was no formal courtship let alone offer talked of by Jane. And, to Elizabeth's chagrin, this wonderful outcome was directly the result of Darcy's intervention. Without that, apparently Charles would have stayed in the north moping over what he had lost, unwilling to come within a hundred miles of London.

So as she stood there, in far better weather than the last time she did so, Elizabeth wondered, with so much to be happy for, why was she feeling so down? It was more than the effect of coming back to Ramsgate after her time in London with Georgiana, which had been wonderful, even without the reconciliation with Jane and Charles. It was not even the deception of becoming a widow, she had quickly seen the value of doing it, and immaturity of insisting on maintaining her original decision even as the evidence of the many difficulties it would pose for Amy-Jane mounted.

No, to be perfectly honest with herself, her depression was entirely due to the recognition of what she had lost. Just how her vicious, unjust accusations had lost her the possibility of continued love from one of the finest men she had ever known, and was ever likely to know. And it was her entirely her own fault. How wilfully ignorant she had been. How a single insult, at the very beginning of their acquaintance, blinded her to his good points, and made her only look for fault, something she accused him of doing. Oh the irony! Had she known then what she knew now, she could have, would have, answered so very differently. She'd have thanked him for his offer, even as she refused him. But in doing so, there could have been the possibility of educating him in why she could not accept an offer couched in those terms. But everything suggested he would have listened to rational and reasoned explanation, and be prepared to change as a result. Certainly the evidence of had been in front of her all along or with things she'd learned subsequently.

But now, when her feelings had changed so dramatically from hate to admiration, her actions must have caused the same seismic shift in him, but from love to what must be abhorrence. Gentlemen so humiliated would not risk their heart a second time.

As Elizabeth walked back to Mrs Carter's she knew now that she'd never marry. She'd never meet anyone to compare with Darcy. As silent tears ran down her face, all she could think was the one man she wanted more than anyone was the one man who'd never be hers.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**In case you are interested, I have, after a few comments on another site, re-read the chapters at the start of this story. These comments showed that I had not clearly portrayed what had happen between Elizabeth and the Viscount (they completely missed what I tried to say, getting completely different meaning for the climactic events that end Chapter 6). As a result Part 1: Chapter 6 has been reworded to make my intent clearer, even as the outcome stays the same. I much prefer this newer version, and wanted you to know this had occurred.**

**Note: there is no need for you to read it again, if you found the original unsettling, it is still unsettling and adult content, if now conveyed in a different way.**


	50. Part 3, Reflection: Chapter 15

**Part 3: Reflection, Chapter 15**

* * *

><p>Richard and O'Connor, on Matlock house mounts this time, rode out to meet Darcy from the Matlock stables, as he waited out front on Atticus.<p>

"Morning Darcy. Here we are, ready for the ride."

"You surprise me. I honestly thought I'd not find you ready, and have to go in and hurry you along."

"You'll have to get up a damn sight earlier to catch an old soldier out, Darcy."

"Is that a challenge? You know I'm up for it."

"No. No! Don't take it that way. I've had enough of being woken while it is still dark by cannon shot to want to do it to please your sense of fun."

"Only joking. Anyway, in light of your recent recovery, I've planned to take all day to get to Rosings, although arriving before the light fades. If this agreeable to you?"

"No need to moddle-coddle me Darcy. Go as hard as you like. Although I am surprised, if that is your view, you've not come in the coach."

"Ah. Georgiana needed it. She's sent Wilkins off to Ramsgate to fetch Elizabeth to London."

"Has she? And you've approved this?"

"Yes, why would I not?"

"I understand you allowing it in Ramsgate, but hosting Elizabeth in London? Are you willing to deal with the gossip that might arise? You know how women talk."

"With Georgiana not out, she'll have little visitors. Even Caroline would not break that far from convention to come without being invited, and I've made it know I'll not to be there. So I think it will be safe. Anyway, Bingley's promised to be around to keep an eye on things."

"Hoping that Elizabeth will have her sister to visit at some stage?"

"Actually it's better than that. It was even Georgiana's idea, but she's having both Bennet sisters to stay while I'm away. Bingley will have to encounter Jane at some point. If I've not heard anything after a fortnight, I'll get Bingley to promise to take Georgiana and her guests somewhere… Not sure, maybe the Tower or a picnic at Kew Park, doesn't matter really, as long as it is something he can't get out of, and leaves him in Miss Bennet's company for a while. I can rely on Elizabeth working it out, and keeping Georgiana otherwise occupied. I'm sure if we leave them to it, they'll sort it out. Both seem very much in love, even with everything that's gone on."

"Congratulations, that's a plan worthy of being mine. Pity I can't come up with something for myself."

"You don't half rate your abilities. Hold it, what about your plans?"

"Nothing Darcy. Nothing at all. How was your trip out west?"

Darcy noticed how Richard changed subject abruptly, and thought, you'll keep, while actually answering, "Nothing like I expected. Henry, or Baron Trentham as he insisted on being called, and his wife… I don't know, I was expecting… actually I don't know what I was expecting… certainly not hospitality, from his reply to my overture of friendship, but what I got… it's hard to explain. He was friendly enough I suppose, well, apart from insisting on his title, but I suppose it is his way of demanding a sign of respect from the locals. I'd like to tell him that respect is not something you can demand, but I'm sure he'd not listen. I don't know… he's different, very different."

"How so?"

"I found I had to watch everything I said. He kept seeing insult and disparaging comment when I'd not meant anything of the sort. I spent a good deal of the apologising for things I didn't say. It even spoiled the subjects we could debate. I suppose I was expecting what happened with Isaac, you know, like we had not been apart at all, but it was not so. It was the same with Henry's wife, Alexandra. She was as beautiful and exotic as I remembered her, although their isolation seems to have embittered her even more than Henry. I didn't see a happy marriage. Both seem to blame the other for their very isolation, rather than working with it to find happiness as the Featherstones did. But I hope maybe to invite them to London or, better, to Pemberley. Maybe I should invite Isaac as will. Maybe he will be able to talk to Henry when I couldn't."

"And risk your own reputation? That's taking what was an old friendship too far Darcy."

"That's the thing Richard. It shouldn't be an old friendship. We should still be friends. Had I stood by him, maybe others would have as well, and he'd not be in this position. So I contributed to his isolation, so it is up to me to try to rectify it, no one else has bothered to."

"You take too much on yourself."

"No. No I don't. My reputation can withstand a little controversy, although best not to mention it to Aunt Catherine. I suppose that is just thing another not to mention to add to the list."

"I wonder how Aunt Catherine is? Father said she's written recently she's finally found a worthy recipient of the living at Hunsford, apparently it's the newly frocked Reverend Collins."

"Has she? I do wonder what he'll be like."

"Who knows, but we're bound to meet the lucky gentleman before long."

"Can't wait." Said Darcy sarcastically before changing the conversation as they negotiated their way out of London. Darcy tried to casually drop the word 'plan' into the conversation where he could, hoping it would get Richard to talk about what he so quickly downplayed, but to no avail.

* * *

><p>Even with the leisurely progress (so slow that even the cart with their portmanteau had already arrived), with a drawn out break at about mid-day and an arrival an hour from sunset, Darcy noticed that Richard strongly favoured his injured leg when he hopped down. Darcy was more grateful than normal that as his Aunt was a poor traveller, so she readily accepted that they would not be available for a formal dinner, which was the usual fare at Rosings when they were there over Easter. Why his Aunt persisted in this silly show of ostentation Darcy could not understand. It was not like Darcy didn't know that this was not the normal occurrence, he helped sort out the accounts every year, and knew to a penny what was spent normally on dinners. But this was yet another example of Lady Catherine's deliberate blindness to reality or an opinion that did not suit her.<p>

* * *

><p>Later that night, the two men sat in the library after having a light meal in the breakfast room. It looked an impressive library, with ornate bookcases full of what appeared to be expensive books. But Darcy knew better, firstly, Sir Lewis bought this library as part of Rosings Park, along with much of the furniture, and the impressive paintings of what most assumed was his ancestors from the estate of William Carey, the eighth and last Baron of Hunsdon. Darcy's father had explained, as a form of lesson to his son about the difference between real value and the appearance of it, that there had been numerous gaps in the shelves at the time of purchase, as the best books had been sold off separately, leaving only the low valued one with the estate. To make up for this loss Sir Lewis had filled them with book lots purchased at auction, chosen entirely by the elaborateness of their bindings, rather than any consideration of the content. So the library was mostly for show, containing large numbers of beautifully bound if incredibly dry books of sermons, usually published to satisfy the vanity of the preacher himself or their patron.<p>

This carried on with the paintings on the wall, all those still here in the library and a good number of those in the more public areas of the house were of the various Carey's by blood or marriage. Although to Lady Catherine credit, she had replaced the paintings in the most obvious locations with copies of various Matlock ancestors. When he was younger, Darcy had made a point of trying to find out the names of those Carey's still hung about the place, as Sir Lewis had directed his staff to remove the name plates from most of them.

But, Darcy supposed, he Uncle was in reality no different than many self-made men of his age. The unwanted younger son of a gentleman, he was sent off to India to live out his life as a functionary of the British East India Company. But success followed success, and eventually his Uncle was intimate with the Moghuls and Maharajas themselves, joining them to hunt tiger from elephant back, indulging in exotic meals in sumptuous palaces and becoming very wealthy in his own right. Darcy recalled many nights sitting here listening to stories of jungle treks, perilous river crossings and close calls with the vicious wildlife of the Indian sub-continent. It seemed to a small boy, from his Uncle's stories, that the entire sub-continent was trying to rid itself of its human inhabitants. Thinking back on it, his Uncle had more adventures that were likely possible in several lifetimes, so Darcy now wondered how many of the tales of personal encounters with deadly cobras, vicious crocodiles as large as small boats, rampaging elephants or man-eating tigers were taken from others. Although there was no denying the size and fierceness of the trophies adorning a walls in the billiards room.

But while surviving all these native animals, and the swarms of thugees and other bandits, tribesmen bent on revenge or any number of short local wars the swirled around India, his Uncle amassed a small fortune, and returned to England. First to buy a title, then an estate, and finally marriage to a lady with all the connections his Uncle did not have, and could not obtain. Before, ironically, dying from apoplexy bought about by a surfeit of overindulgence in the very things his fortune provided.

While Sir Lewis's title was only a knighthood and thus not hereditary, it did have the benefit of then not being tied to the estate, allowing his cousin Anne to inherit it, which at least gave her some prospects, even if it was only for her inheritance, if only once his Aunt finally could be convinced that he was not going to marry her himself. Darcy had tried to hint, and even was quite blunt, as far as good manners allowed, that he had no truck with her delusion that their betrothal was due to an agreement between his mother and her when they were both babes. He knew this was entire false, his mother had never spoken of it and his father, once Darcy had come of age, had specifically refuted it, later one night when it had been hinted at by his Aunt during a visit. Notwithstanding this, there had been a few drunken moments in the past where he had contemplated marrying Anne. If only from pity to rescue her from her mother, taking her off to Pemberley while leaving Lady Catherine here, but they had not occurred often, and thankfully not when there could be any possibility of acting on them.

So once he married Elizabeth (not if, as Darcy refused to contemplate failure to win her, even if it was a campaign lasting years) which seemed the only way to convince his Aunt he was not going to marry Anne, maybe Lady Catherine would cast her eyes elsewhere. Darcy hoped, for Anne sake, her mother was not the sole arbiter of suitability of her suitor, as Darcy was well aware how easily she was taken in by those that deferred to her and flattered her sense of importance. It needed to be someone with enough rank or connections to satisfy Lady Catherine, but sensitive to Anne's frail health not to want too much from her, maybe a widower with children? No, Anne's mother would not allow that, as he knew she was afraid of Anne passing away as the distant cousin that was next to inherit would push his claim for the estate, something he could not do with Anne as heir apparent. But someone with title would want children to pass this on to, and would possible make demands that would put Anne at great risk. Having to consider this was giving Darcy a headache. How easy would it have been for Sir Lewis to have appointed his father-in-law, the late Earl as executor than Darcy's father, thus this would all be his Uncle, the current Earl's, problem not his. But there was some argument soon after Sir Lewis's and Lady Catherine's marriage that caused an estrangement. But it was not talked of, so Darcy had only the vaguest idea of what it was, something about his title or estate. Although funnily enough Lady Catherine had sided with her husband, Darcy would have assumed she'd have taken the side of her noble family, but it showed she did take her vows serious indeed.

Realising that he'd sat and said nothing for a considerable period of time, He looked over at Richard, the only other occupant of the library. His cousin was sitting there staring into the fire, a snifter of brandy still almost full in his hands. While it was a nasty thought, Darcy realised that Richard could prove to be the perfect substitute to replace him as the object of Lady Catherine's matrimonial machinations. It would be a hard sell, but maybe if he worked at it slowly, prepared the ground so to speak this year, and then make it clear next year that he would never consider marrying his cousin, while having Richard sitting off to the side to soften the blow. It had the added bonus of keeping Rosings Park in the family, even if Anne was never well enough to bear a child. And didn't Richard always talk of needing to marry an heiress of at least fifty thousand pounds? Rosings Park was no Pemberley, but it earned more than that sum invested could already, and with the right management it would earn a good deal more. That might just be enough to compensate for having Lady Catherine as a mother-in-law! Darcy sat back to think of the best way to determine if his cousin would contemplate the possibility without putting his back up, but nothing that wasn't an immediately obvious ploy came to mind.

Now a little frustrated with himself for having run out of ideas, Darcy realised that the two of them had been sitting together for what must be nearly an hour and, other than the initial banter when he poured them both a brandy, the remaining time had been silent. Darcy never minded silence, and at times preferred it, but this was very uncharacteristic of Richard. He couldn't normally sit for more than ten minutes without starting a conversation about something, even when Darcy had told his cousin he needed time to think. Come to think of it, Richard had been like this for a while now. His letters from Ramsgate certainly did not hint of any melancholy, in fact they were generally very buoyant and cheerful, except for the last letter, informing Darcy of his return to London, and then he'd been like this since. Something happened at Ramsgate, that was certain, but Darcy had no idea what, or was it who? Could Richard have also got close to Elizabeth? Or did he also offer, as unlikely as that seemed, or at least think of offering but shied off? Is that the plan that Richard hinted had not worked? Would she consider it, if he did make an offer?

The sudden pain this realisation caused, that Elizabeth could choose another man, was like being shot. Oh God! No! Darcy's first reaction was that he'd kill anyone that got in the way of his own happiness. Realising his heart was racing and fists were clenched in rage, Darcy took the time to calm himself down. After that initial violent emotional response, Darcy was able to think more rationally about it. Maybe his cousin was a rival, maybe not. But, remembering the conversations with Grandmother Fitzwilliam and what he had read, isn't love about letting go of your own desires and wanting what was best for the other person? Add to that the lesson he must not treat her like a possession, but as a person in her own right, with thoughts, dreams, desires and choices of her own. So if she chose another, even someone that was as close to him as his cousin, he must accept it. But, resolved Darcy to himself, that did not prevent him making the most of any opportunity to plead his own case until that decision was made. Even if that meant he and his cousin would be rivals. And may the best man win, and while Darcy knew it was conceit, but he was sure he was the best man.

Still this was all guess work, he did not actually know why, or more likely, who, Richard was pining for, although Darcy could know recognise the symptoms well enough. Best to find out so, breaking the silence, he asked. "Richard, this morning you mentioned your plans went awry. Anything I could help with?"

"No. It doesn't matter. No one can help."

"Are you sure, what is it. Maybe I can suggest something."

"There's no point burdening you with this."

"Come on Richard, you need to let me know what's wrong. You've been out of sorts since you returned to London. What happened in Ramsgate?"

"How do you know it was Ramsgate?"

"It's been obvious. You've not been yourself since your return."

Richard looked like he might say something, but stopped himself. Darcy sat and waited, know that now he'd got Richard to talk, it was just a matter of time… Sure enough…

"Look Darcy, you must promise that what I am about to tell you, you'll never tell my father."

"I'm happy to promise that."

"Even if you are asked directly. That may just mean you will have to lie on my behalf."

"Well I can't say I am happy about that, but yes I promise to even lie about it if I have to."

"Thank you Darcy. Well, the reason I've not been myself is that I'm ashamed of myself Darcy. The guts of it is that I made a real cake of myself. Acted like a schoolboy. I said things I should not have, flirted badly, although it was, I must say in my defence, it was returned in equal measure. But I raised expectations that I had no intention of fulfilling..."

Darcy felt the anger return, and his vision turned red, as he heard Richard talk of raisings Elizabeth's expectations, thinking only of how could Richard treat her that way. Darcy could hardly breathe as Richard continued, "Sure, I didn't quite go as far as actually making an offer to Charlotte…"

"Elizabeth's friend Miss Lucas?" Oh the relief! Darcy's world returned to normal.

"Yes, Charlotte, anyway…"

"Miss Lucas? Charlotte? The one that nursed you?" Darcy could not see how Richard could be attracted to Elizabeth's friend when Elizabeth eclipsed her like the sun did the stars.

"Yes, that one. Why do you find it so hard to understand the attraction?"

"It's that she's so...so…"

"Plain? There Darcy, I've said it so you don't have to."

"Well I'm sure she's got a lovely caring manner. She'll make someone a loving wife, and a very caring mother."

"I see you've not disagreed with me. But yes, I saw the same soul you've just described. It's a bit like, you know, Rebecca Featherstone where the exterior belies the depth of the person inside."

"I can only suppose you are correct, I wasn't there long enough to learn much of Miss Lucas, but my main impression was of shyness, she never really overcame it the entire time, although I noticed she was not so shy around you."

"I found out, in one of our many talks, where we were more open than I've ever been with any lady, and I think it was the same with her, that she found tall handsome gentlemen more than just a little imposing, and so was very nervous around them. This provoked the stuttering and stammering when she talked to you. You being both and me being neither explains a great deal of the difference in her manner."

"You are not tall, but I'd say you are not un-handsome."

"Thanks Darcy for the backhanded compliment, but I know my limitations. Next to you, I contrast as badly as Charlotte does against Elizabeth."

"True, it has been many months now that I have considered Elizabeth as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance." Realising he'd said it with more vigour than he should, Darcy felt the hot flush of embarrassment, as that was far more than he'd admitted to Richard prior to now. Hoping Richard would let the statement pass, as he'd preferred not to discuss Elizabeth at Rosings where the servants were all beholden to his Aunt. He'd certainly not want Lady Catherine to know until it was a fait-accompli, who knew what mischief his Aunt could cause. Thankfully Richard said nothing, just leant back in his chair and smiled. In an attempt to refocus the discussion back on Richard's actions in Ramsgate, Darcy asked. "So you talked rather too freely for propriety sake?"

"Yes, and in a few unguarded moments said things that I shouldn't."

"Is there grounds for a breach of promise suit?"

"No, as I said, I did everything else but offer. Unlike you, who did."

"Well that's a... Just a minute, how do you know about that? I never told you exactly what happened that day."

"Elizabeth told me."

"She told you? Why? When?"

"It must have been only a week or so after you left so… abruptly. Um, I suppose it's confession time. Both Charlotte and I found common cause with the odd behaviour of the two of you, and our trying to find out what had caused it. We searched around and found an earlier copy of the letter you spent all night writing. But, you never gave it to Elizabeth did you?"

Darcy was annoyed, did he not have any secrets? But his innate honesty would not have him not answer. "As a matter of fact, no, I did not give it to her. It was burnt about a week later. But that's not the point, what were you doing snooping around?"

"As I said, Charlotte and I were worried about both you and Elizabeth. Did you know the day after you left she stood out all day in that nasty weather just after you left and was very ill?"

"No! Is she alright? Does she need anything?"

"Stop worrying Darcy, it was a long time ago. And yes, she's fine. Charlotte cared for her, while apologising for not being there for me. Can you believe it?"

"Yes, I suppose I can. Charlotte was always selfless, well at least as far as I could see. She certainly put up with you when you were having a bad day. I can remember thinking I'd have told you to go to the devil at the time."

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Not often, but you had your moments. But you must have known, given she must be quite a bit older than Elizabeth and still unmarried, she'd likely fall for anyone that paid her much attention. And even I could tell she might be very generous with her heart. You should have taken much more care!"

"It is that very generosity that attracted me to her that means I have acted like a cad. She'll be hurting badly from my desertion, I know it. But what can I do, Darcy? Being a colonel is an expensive exercise, and it is not just me or even the officers I have to worry about. It's the men. The army only provides the minimum you see, Parliament is too stretched in war time, too tight once peace returns to properly fund everything they need. So this falls to the officers, the colonel particularly. I spend pretty much every penny of the very generous quarterly allowance my father gives me on them… Please don't tell Father, he'd not understand. Then, if I want to be anything more than a Colonel, father still has to use his considerable influence for me to get a promotion to brigadier general, and that will means favours and gifts, and the gifts will most likely cost far more than he'll get back selling my colonelcy. I'm trapped. Father wants and demands an heiress, and I can't argue, I need an heiress. I'm trapped, Darcy, trapped." Richard turned his face from Darcy and went back to staring at the fire.

Darcy realised he couldn't reply with his plan right now. Richard's wounded heart was still too raw. But maybe if he prepared Lady Catherine, and only later bought the possibility up with Richard, that might work. As Darcy was considering how broach the subject with their Aunt, he saw Richard take a big slug of brandy before turning back towards him.

"And if I marry Charlotte, Darcy, what can I offer her? A disowned colonel sinking slowly into debt as his pay doesn't even cover his own needs, let alone that of hers and my men. No chance of ever getting a promotion and, far more likely to be sent off to the West Indies or India, as Father has plenty of connections in the Horse Guards for me to contend with. So you now see. Bit like you really, in love with someone I can't have, but you, you at least have a chance to change things. She no longer hates you. In fact she confessed to me just before I left Ramsgate her feelings are changing to the opposite. How opposite she didn't say but there is your chance."

"She does? Richard! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry, haven't been in the mood to make anyone else happy, wallowing in my own misery too much I guess. Please accept my apologies."

"Sure. I sympathise with your situation, I do."

"I know. You, of all people might just understand. But what can I do, other than just carry on?"

"Can I help?"

"No, no you can't. Thanks for the offer, but unless you can conjure 50,000 pounds from somewhere, I'm done. I know I've joked about it before, but that is the minimum if I will need once I'm disowned by Father, as I'm sure it will happen. He spent a good deal of time berating Sumerville to me and lecturing me on my duty. He can't disown Sumerville, it's all entailed. But me, I survive to the greater extent, at his whim, and he's not a happy man at the moment. Although I hold out hope that maybe once Sumerville has a few heirs of his own, Father will not worry so much about the spare. But it is all a long way from now, I've got to make it through the war first. Maybe a Frenchie musket ball will make all this moot."

"Don't talk like that."

"Sometimes I think it would be for the best. I won't have to go on knowing of the pain I must have inflicted on her. But my men mean more to me than my own happiness. And, in the end I think it would be best for Charlotte as well, better for her pain to have been of short duration, she'll recover, than marry her, force her to suffer the depredations of war, and end up a penniless widow, Father would provide nothing, of that I am sure."

"Don't talk like that. You've survived this long."

"Sure, but how many others haven't. No, don't argue Darcy, I know the odds, and I'm well ahead of the game. But see, there is every chance I'll leave Charlotte a widow or worse, having to care for an invalid on the pittance of a pension His Majesty begrudges us."

"Look Richard, if it helps, I would always support you both or if the worst happened, her alone at Pemberley. The offer is there if that makes it easier."

"I'll not live on the charity of others, even yours. Anyway it doesn't matter, I think I've finally come to terms with the fact that Charlotte and I are not fated to be together. Maybe in a different time it could have worked, but with England threatened by Boney, I have to think of my men. Heaven knows the Government doesn't."

"Regardless, my offer will always be there. Could that help sway you to follow your heart?"

"Why are you so worried about my heart now Darcy? You never used to be."

That comment shook Darcy. Was that how his cousin and closest friend thought of him? It was true he could be proud, and recently realised he often come across as conceited, but he thought that was only his way with those that were only acquaintances, not those he considered friends.

"Richard, I am so very sorry that I've been that unfeeling. You should have said something earlier."

"But I did, maybe not directly, but I hinted at it any number of times, to no avail. I chose to believe you didn't understand than you were deliberately ignoring me."

"It was ignorance, I didn't know, truly I didn't."

"If it was anyone but you Darcy, I'd not believe them, but you? From you I can believe it. It takes your particular type of mind to be that oblivious to another's opinion. No don't get upset Darcy, it is just part of your make up, I learnt that many years ago, and it has its positive side... You will do the right thing regardless of what others think. You could pay more attention to what others are thinking and feeling, but keep that part of you as well."

"I have already learned a little about that recently, and have been trying to improve myself, but please, be honest, what else should I work to improve on?"

"I have noticed the difference in you recently, and I am very pleased for it. Was it Elizabeth's rejection that prompted this?"

"Yes, in fact it was. After I left Ramsgate I was..." Darcy went on to explain, eventually in more detail than he intended, as a result of Richard's intuitive questions, everything that happened since leaving Ramsgate up to arriving in Rosings Park. Darcy found it quite a revelation that Richard seemed to know already, and had known for a long time, many of the life lessons that Darcy had just learned. Richard's insight into the way a gentleman should act added to Darcy's growing understanding of just what he'd been like in the past, and what he needed to do to change in the future. Richard was also a great help in suggesting things he could do in his dealings with servants and the lower classes, to make him appear, to quote Richard, "less of a conceited arse". This was most embarrassing as Richard tended to quote Darcy's own words to Elizabeth as his examples.

This lead to Richard returning the compliment, giving a decent explanation of what happened at Ramsgate and what he'd learned from Elizabeth once Darcy left. Darcy was a little alarmed to hear of the extent of Richard's and Charlotte's actions in this regard, but afterward he could only be grateful for the extent of what was done had changed Elizabeth's views of him or enabled her to learn of the truth instead of her misinterpretations of what he had done. What was of real surprise was her telling Richard of his own brother's perfidy. He'd never thought she'd do such a thing, but when Richard, pressed for details, explained how it had come about, Darcy could only appreciate his cousin's skill (well for this time, he was not so appreciative when it was done on him). As can be imagined, the pair talked in this manner late into the night.

Later, when Darcy was alone in his room and had some time to himself, Darcy realised Richard's comments gave him more than just relief, it gave him hope. Yes there were a good number of her objections to overcome, then demonstrate his contrition and ask for repentance, a good many of Elizabeth's misunderstandings of his character had been laid to bed. There was the thought that next time they met, after making the apologies necessary, there could be a good possibility of starting again, as if with a fresh piece of paper. And this time he would take the time, make the effort to woo her properly. Show her how much he valued her, respected her, treasured her… loved her.

As Darcy was in that halfway state of not quite asleep, Darcy had what he was sure was a brilliant plan. It would take a bit of arranging, and could not be done here, but once back in London…

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for Darcy, the rest of their stay reverted to the usual overly formal manner. But, thankfully the state of the accounts meant Darcy was in no way lying when he begged off all of the social activities Lady Catherine had planned for him and Anne. As was usual, Darcy sent Richard off to do the honours, while he spent the entire day buried deep in trying to get to grips with the estate ledgers, unpaid bills and deferred estate matters instead. While very grateful of Richard's willingness to take on this task, and earn the ire of their Aunt for making it impossible for her to insist on Darcy doing so given it would be impolite to favour one cousin over the other, Darcy was still not sure whether to actually promote the match between the two of them or not. There were real advantages to both parties, these were almost entirely economic, and he was not sure just how resigned Richard actually was to giving up on Charlotte, whatever his protestations to that effect. But, this visit he spent a lot more time, during the long interminable evening dinners to observe both Richard and Anne's behaviour towards each other.<p>

Richard, as always, was friendly towards Anne, and actively tried to engage her in conversation, but whether it was anything more than his usual manner towards any lady or an attempt to deflect attention away from Darcy and on to himself, Darcy could not tell. Anne was harder to read, and knowing how badly he had erred in reading Elizabeth, Darcy would not want to do more than say he guessed Anne was happy to receive Richard's attention. After a week or so of this Darcy realised he'd made a mistake in studying Anne so closely, as it became obvious that Lady Catherine had noticed it as well, but was taking entirely the wrong impression from it. Damn! So for the rest of the stay Darcy fell back on his well-practiced reserved demeanour, getting a number of glares from Richard as a result. Darcy felt like he couldn't win, as did he felt he could not explain why he was doing it to Richard, since Darcy was still unsure whether to actively promote the match or just allow the pair of them to spend time together, under the lackadaisical chaperonage of Mrs Jenkinson, and hope something would just develop if it was going to without any assistance from him.

Whatever Darcy thought about the possible futures for Anne, it was hard to escape the subject of marriage, which Lady Catherine bought up obliquely in conversation every night. Probably the most blatant of this occurred the evening Darcy's Aunt invited Mr Collins, the newly installed Hunsford Rector for that night's dinner. Most intriguing was Lady Catherine's insistence that this was 'only to even up the numbers so we can fill out the pool at quadrille this evening' making it quite clear that in the normal course of events, she would not invite him as she felt Mr Collins to be very much a guest of last resort. But why, thought Darcy, maybe he was too forthright, too moralistic, too much a man of the people for his Aunt, and waited for this Mr Collins with some anticipation.

Whatever of the various possibilities Darcy had considered, the new rector, Mr Collins was none of these. It appeared Oxford accepted just about anyone now days, thought Darcy, as it was apparent that while Mr Collins had met the necessary terms by turning up often enough once his father had paid the tuition, Darcy could not see any evidence that he'd learnt anything while there. Any possible learning demonstrated was poorly memorised quotes or extracts, often misattributed, where Darcy knew the quote and the real author. But what he lacked in sense he made up for with a bizarre mix of pride and self-importance, based entirely on the high rank of his patroness, who he venerated with an obsequiousness that was disconcerting, and a humility that bordered on submissive. Darcy had to consciously resist the urge to wipe his hand on his breeches after Mr Collins shook it, and smiled when Richard actually did.

The dinner conversation that evening could only be described as bizarre. Lady Catherine appeared to have a male echo, but one with occasional unintentionally hilarious, memory lapses, that meant it was often very hard not to laugh out loud. Mr Collins at times spoke in rambling speeches, that were slightly incoherent, and even contradictory as he appeared to try to guess what his patroness wanted him to say. Darcy and Richard just looked at each other in amazement as their Aunt seemed happy to let Mr Collins make a fool of himself. Whenever he appeared to run out of words, Lady Catherine would ask another leading question, and the cycle would repeat.

During the separation after dinner, although as short as Darcy and Richard could make it, this still gave Mr Collins the opportunity to make a big deal about an estate, called Longbourn, that he was to inherit from a cousin, who had no heirs. That name seemed familiar to Darcy but he could not place the reference. When questioned, Mr Collins had very little to say about it, having not actually been there, nor did he know much about where it was or what type of farming was the source of its income. Darcy could not understand how anyone could be so ignorant. He also, to Darcy's distaste, made a particular note of the age of the incumbent, with the implication that he'd inherit soon. Thankfully for Darcy it was not long before the gentlemen joined the ladies in the parlour.

It was then that Lady Catherine was her most blatant. While looking directly at Darcy, she asked Mr Collins directly "Are you married Mr Collins?"

Given that she must have already known the answer to this, Darcy knew that this was just the prelude to a series of pointed questions that she would then also answer, all directly at him. Mr Collins found the question equally odd, stammered something, before Lady Catherine answered for him. "Of course you are not. But you will be soon will you not?"

Mr Collins had no answer to this. Darcy suspected he'd not given it much thought, having only just gained a living that might allow for it. But there was no stopping the juggernaut that was his Aunt, who had her particular selfish views to consider. "Mr Collins, you must marry as any clergyman must marry, to be a good example to the neighbourhood. Find such a woman as soon as you can, and when you bring her to Hunsford, I will visit her."

"But, Lady Catherine, where would I find such a lady? I have just arrived here."

"Mr Collins, are you not to inherit an estate elsewhere?"

"Yes your ladyship. Of course it is nothing to…"

"Yes, Yes, Mr Collins, I could not expect that, it would be ridiculous to think any estate you would inherit could rival any of the great estates like Rosings Park, or Pemberley, for example. No, I was not expecting a comparison, it was, if I recall, the owner has only daughters. Are any of them not married?"

"Ah, your Ladyship, um, ah…"

"Well Mr Collins? It was a simple question. Are they or are they not married?"

"Ah. Well, um… not as far as I know Lady Catherine."

"So there we have it. Marry one of them. I am sure that they will know the ways to economise, and their parents will be grateful to have the property stay in the family and so will promote the match."

"There is but one daughter at home Lady Catherine."

"So marry their only daughter. Is she of marriageable age?"

"Ah, um… Well, you see your Ladyship, it is that…" By now Darcy had determined that Mr Collins had a habit of bobbing his head up and down when he was nervous, and by now most replies included a good deal of head bobbing.

"Mr Collins, you read the sermons I sent you without all this prevarication… Out with it."

"Ah. Ah… I fear that the daughter at home is the youngest and likely to be too young. The others are elsewhere."

"Elsewhere? And unmarried? What sort of strange family arrangements does your Uncle have?"

"Cousin, Lady Catherine, distant cousin." By this stage Mr Collins head was bobbing up and down like a duck on a wind ruffled pond.

"Whatever relative, what sort of living arrangements do the other daughters have?"

"Ah… Um… Well… I understand several are living with other relatives." Darcy wondered what sort of speed Mr Collins head would be on a metronome, it was now that regular.

"It sounds like a very small estate if they can have but one child at home, yet you described it as having a reasonable income. Can you explain this?"

"Oh no, it has a reasonable income your ladyship, it is just that one of the daughters was involved in a scandal while in London several years ago, although what specifically happened my father did not learn, and thus the family is not well received any longer."

"And so they should not. I understand your own reluctance to admit to the connection now. No, you should not look to find a wife from any of the daughters. But what of the area around the estate? There must be a gentlewoman there that would accept an offer from you."

"I do not know your Ladyship, I have not visited the area. Should I go?"

"Of course you should go. You must, if just to ensure that the incumbent is not ruining your inheritance. If he is, you can sue, you know. But there will be considerable advantages in marrying a gentlewoman from the area. She will know the area, thus who are the honest merchants and who gives poor terms or does not extend credit. And she will not be associated with your cousin, and may help overcome your own tainted connection with the other leading families of the area"

"I shall go as soon as I can arrange it, if that is acceptable to you, your Ladyship. It should not take long to find someone that will accept my offer of marriage."

"But not just anyone that would accept you Mr Collins." Darcy winced at this insult, but noticed Mr Collins appeared oblivious to it, as his Aunt continued "You must choose properly. Take care to choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. You cannot go wrong in this case."

"I will start the arrangements at once Lady Catherine. At once. I will start by…"

"Yes, yes. See Fitzwilliam, there is a man that knows the value of marriage and is willing to act on it."

"Yes Aunt. I congratulate you on your coming nuptials Mr Collins. I am sure _you_ will be very happy." At this Darcy got up and paced off towards the nearest window.

"Thank you Mr Darcy, thank you ever so much, it is great honour to…" Mr Collins had started to get up to thank Darcy properly, but then sat back as Darcy walked past him without looking.

Behind him his Aunt, now no longer the centre of attention, interrupted Mr Collins again to ask, "So Richard, what about you? Has your father found someone for you?"

And Mr Collins was left out of the remaining conversation, having to sit there as Lady Catherine talked of things or people he had no knowledge of, until (Darcy assumed) she decided Mr Collins had been firmly enough put in his place and it was time play quadrille.

* * *

><p>Darcy did wonder, as they were finally riding back towards London, whether Lady Catherine deliberately forgot to record personal expenditure, failed to pay bills, miss-noted entries, and ignored dunning letters to ensure his staying longer. He did not remember his father taking this long to manage the accounts, although he did remember his Aunt was less intractable about planning essential estate maintenance and improvements, now a considerable source of contention between him and her. No wonder she could not retain a steward for more than a few years at a time. How Mr Egan put up with having his orders countermanded at every turn Darcy could not imagine.<p>

Deciding that any more time contemplating Rosings Park would bring about a headache, Darcy started to put together the various elements of the plan that had come to him the first night. However his musings were (rudely) interrupted by Richard, who had become more like his garrulous self the last week.

"Darcy, glad that's over for another year? Or are you going to have to go back for the harvest."

"I'd love not have to, but given how badly it was managed last year, I suspect I will have to do something. Lady Catherine is still spending as if she had the income from a full harvest last year. The estate won't cope with the mismatch forever."

"Here's a bit of news for that might make it a happier time for you…"

And, as annoying as ever, Richard paused. Well, two can play at this game, so Darcy refused to bite.

And said nothing for a little while.

And then a while more.

Having a plan to work out Darcy was prepared to spend the rest of the trip silently.

It would suit him fine.

He had all day.

"Alright! Alright! Darcy you win. I found out something interesting while you were buried in the dusty old ledgers…"

Darcy just turned and looked.

And just waited.

Again.

"...Humph. Fine! As you know I spent a good deal of time with Anne. She's not as dull as she seems. Just that Mrs Jenkinson monotone reading bores her to tears, and she's frustrated with no being able to read much herself with her megrims and such, so I did the honours on a number of occasions. She was a lot more perceptive than I've ever given her credit for, and has a very good memory. We had several good discussions afterwards. And there was the time the Mrs Jenkinson fell asleep. Anne does a wicked parody of her mother. I just about slipped of the seat! You should get her to do it some time. Ask about her to do the one with the piano teacher. Wonderful!"

Richard was suppressing his laughter while relating that last bit, however Darcy wondered why he was telling him this, relating a second hand joke wasn't the least bit funny, however much Richard was amused. His puzzlement must have shown, as Richard sobered up to continue, "Oh, that's not the good news. What will make you happy is that Anne is not interested in marrying you either."

"She's not?' It was a bit of a blow to his ego to find out he'd be rejected (if not as definitively as Elizabeth had) by another lady.

"No. Doesn't want to leave Rosings Park you see. Marrying someone without an estate means Rosings will be her dowry. Sorry Darcy, but you're not acceptable. Rejected again."

Darcy was less than happy for Richard to be quite so cheerful about this, even if he'd drawn the same conclusion himself.

"It is not a rejection, I've always made it clear I never intended to offer, whatever her mother said on the matter. If Anne's as perceptive as you say, she must have realised that already."

"I'm sure she does. Still, there's first time for everything, a gentleman rejected because he's got an estate, rather than from the lack of it! Gives me hope, it does."

"I'm glad it makes you happy."

"I suppose it does. You know Darcy, I was pleased to find that Anne's not as meek and as mild as I've always imagined her to be, certainly not as she is when around her mother. She might even make someone a good wife if Aunt Catherine moving to the Dower house is part of the marriage settlement. Hey, Darcy, is Aunt Catherine still refusing to maintain it so she'd never be forced to life there?"

* * *

><p>It was not long in after he arrived London that Darcy was able to see how well Bingley and Jane were doing together now. Bingley was most appreciative to Darcy's actions, and thanked him each time they met, until Darcy had to tell him to stop. The discussion that arose when this was asked of Bingley, led to a good number more. As a result of Darcy asking Bingley questions about himself, as his Grandmother had done to him, Bingley made significant changes to his own attitudes and behaviours.<p>

This also bought about a pleasing change in their friendship. Gone was the feeling of a tutor to student interaction. Bingley now generally only deferred to Darcy in areas where Darcy had significantly more experience or knowledge, such as estate management or the intricacies of ton behaviour, and Darcy recognised where it was better to defer to Bingley, learning a large amount about business and investments in return.

This meant that Darcy and Charles spent a good deal of time together, and where there was Charles there was bound to be Jane. Or, more likely where Jane was, Charles could be found. It was very apparent how the time apart had changed how the pair interacted. Where it was possible, with Darcy often posing as a chaperone, the other two spent the time talking in low tones. Of what Darcy chose deliberately not to know, but whatever it was, there could be no denying that each knew exactly how one felt about the other now, and what the eventual conclusion of all this would be.

About the only downside to this felicity was that Darcy was often forced to pair up with Caroline to give Bingley and his lady time together without Caroline's acidic comments. Darcy was surprised how negative Caroline was towards Jane, even after she was made aware, in no uncertain terms, of Darcy's admiration of Jane and his approval of any possible future alliance.

* * *

><p>It was about a fortnight after returning from Rosings, when Darcy, a good deal into today's business, was interrupted by a knock on his office door. Darcy turned, and then stood, as Steele announced the arrival of Mr Senge.<p>

"Greetings Mr Darcy. Here I am, as agreed." Said the rather slight man, with wild tousled hair, in a heavy continental accent.

"Ah, Mr Senge, welcome. Were you able to get sufficient sketches to complete all your commissions?"

"Yes. I have several poses of your sister for you to approve, with a few watercolour sketches of possible backgrounds in which to situate her. I was thinking of the front lawn…"

The painter had bent to open his leather folio when Darcy stopped him. "Good. We will get to that later, what about the other two?"

"Ah. Your sister's companion was not always present, it was her older sister, the blonde one, that kept your sister company most often. The little girl was often the cause of her lack of attendance."

"Yes, yes, but did you get their likeness? Did anyone notice you?"

"It was not easy, but I did enough quick sketches to fully capture her likeness, and the little girl as well, without anyone being the wiser."

"Very good, it has to be a surprise. So the smaller portrait and miniatures will be ready when?"

"Give me another week or so on the portrait, but I've bought the miniatures with me. Here." At that the painter reached into a pocket and bought out two small boxes. Darcy resisted the urge to snatch them out of his hands, waiting patiently as Mr Serge fumbled the first box open and then handed it over. Ah! Picking it up reverently, Darcy was most gratified to see an extremely faithful likeness of Elizabeth, in miniature, the perfect size to carry in his breast pocket. Placing it carefully back in its box, Darcy waited until he was shown the other work. This was a very good painting of Amy-Jane as well.

"Mr Serge, these are excellent. You have done an exemplary job on both. I can but look forward to the smaller portrait as well."

"Yes it will be only a week or so. Are you sure you do not want me to have a frame made? It would save you the trouble later."

"No, that will not be necessary. Just the painting, thank you. Now, what have you drawn of the options for my sister."

"As you wish. With your sister I have several sketches of landscapes and two inside, if I can show you…" The painter then finally got to open his folio. The rest of the time together was spent discussing the arrangement of the full sized oil portrait of Georgiana that Darcy had commissioned, in preparation of her sixteenth birthday.

After the painter had left Darcy removed the miniature of Elizabeth from its box again, and stood for a long time just looking at it, holding it, before slipping into his breast pocket. After this Darcy went over to his desk and removed the older miniature of Summerville and placed it on his desk before taking the one of Amy-Jane and put that alongside. Mr Serge had painted Amy-Jane in half profile, with the same aspect as Sumerville's one, as requested. So, other than the new one looking a lot fresher and a few subtle differences in hair and eye colour, the two looked similar enough that those that did not know already were unlikely to pick which was which without prompting. He placed Amy-Jane's one back in its box, and the one of Summerville as a child in the other box, before putting both back into his desk drawer and locking it.

Given that the painter had followed his instructions to date, Darcy was sure, as he looked over to his safe, that Elizabeth's portrait would fit there and, later in his trunk, until he was in a position to have it framed and hung, pride of place, in his office. Darcy then turned back to the business that was interrupted by Mr Senge arriving for his appointment.

Once that was finished Darcy moved to the library proper to think. He mentally went through the list of the different elements of his plan, as he did so, Darcy realised there was only one thing left to do. Realising he could not do it alone, he tried to think of the best man, or men to help. Bingley would, without hesitation, but he's bound to ask why. Adams would most likely help, and he'd certainly not balk at the illicit nature nor likely to ask questions, but he might be a bit too noticeable. Isaac? Hard to say, honesty being one of those things a priest about pride themselves.

No, the only answer was to wait for Richard to return from visiting his regiment's trainee, which meant a delay of a week or more. But that could not be helped. Actually, Richard was bound to have a few fellow officers that would come along and make the whole thing that bit easier. Satisfied that he had a solution, Darcy picked up the book he had not finished last night.

* * *

><p>Richard took nearly a fortnight to return, but came around promptly, the very night he returned. After being shown in, Richard wasted no time coming to the point.<p>

"Darcy, so what is it you need? Hope it won't take too long. I've got less than a week before I accompany the new recruits to Spain."

"There for the duration?"

"Yes, the leg has finally come right, well good enough to be able to be in the saddle all day, so I'm able to rejoin the regiment. Can't wait to see how Major Miles has been coping in my absence. You realise it's been the best part of 9 months?"

"Has it been that long? Yes, I suppose it has. Actually, it should take only an afternoon."

"Good. Happy to help, but make it sometime Wednesday or Thursday, if possible. There's quite a bit still to do to be ready. Oh, sailing is Friday at this stage."

"That works for me. Look, it's a lot to ask of you, what I want goes well beyond the pale, so I'm fine if you say no. Promise you'll say no if you're uncomfortable with it."

"Now you've got me intrigued Darcy. Is it illegal?"

"Not illegal, but might get us black-balled from every club in London."

There was no reply but raised eyebrows from Richard. Darcy went on to explain.

"What I need to do it remove a page of the betting book at Brooks."

"My brother's club? But why? What bet?"

"You know that Amy-Jane is your niece? Yes? Well, it was the result of a bet. Can you believe… Oh, you know. Well, I just can't stand the idea of their being a record of that in a book somewhere."

"You know they don't look back to old bets that often."

"Doesn't matter. It irks me just being there, not knowing what is written, or if they name names. Without a record it can be denied if it is ever made public. The antagonism between your brother and I is such that unless there is some form of proof I should be able to brazen it out as him just being vindictive."

"You've spent some time thinking this through, haven't you?"

"Yes, if, no when, I marry Elizabeth, I need to be able to protect her daughter as if she was my own. In fact I'll admit to being the father if I need to, if that is if Elizabeth wants me to do. While it would be better to pretend it was a secret marriage, her being so young, I doubt that would wash. But I suppose her being my mistress could stand up to scrutiny. There are enough rumours, mostly your sister I think, to allow that to be believed. Better a mistress than what they'd think if what really happened became known."

"I'll stand by any story you want to promote, if it ever comes to that."

"Thank you. So, while I remove the page, what you need to do is distract the attendant and make enough noise to cover the sound as it tears."

"No. Darcy, don't tear it! Cut it using a razor, very close to the spine. A ripped page will stick out like dogs balls. Take the one Steele uses on you, that'll cut through it like butter. You alright if I bring a few fellow officers I trust. I can ensure more noise and confusion than several attendants can cope with."

"As long as they don't know what's happening."

"Sure, no problem. I'm sure I can come up with something. Look you go there about an hour earlier, and find the right page, I'll turn up with my party at about three. I'll be bringing Captain Greaves definitely, he's a member of Brooks, and… Doesn't matter who, but we'll do more distracting than you think possible.. Anyway Wednesday or Thursday? Remember I'm off Friday, weather and preparation allows."

"Then Wednesday is better. Gives another day if needed. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"What, and miss out on the possibility of getting one over on my brother? Not on your life. Look, send me a note, Tuesday, if it is still on, as I best be off now. Lots to do. Oh, sorry, is there anything else you need?"

"No, just that. Look, think about it. There could be real consequences for doing this."

"Darcy, stop worrying. Maybe you mark the page and I'll do it."

"No I need to do it, so if I get caught…"

"You worry too much. It'll be fine. See you Wednesday."

"See you at three."

* * *

><p>Darcy, meticulous as ever, was admitted to Brooks at ten minutes to two. After a single brandy Darcy asked the attendant if he could confirm a bet he was sure a friend made a number of years ago. Knowing that it had just been Amy-Jane's fifth birthday, Darcy started with the date of five and three quarter years ago, and worked back from then. When he finally found it, with its adjustments and damning record of completion, with an addendum of Jane Bennet as well, marked incomplete, Darcy blood boiled. How could gentlemen be so casual about a ladies virtue? He'd also read over a number of similar distasteful bets along similar lines in finding this one. While not really important, Darcy first noticed the date the bet was lodged was pretty much at the point his father fell ill that last time, so Summerville was planning the ruination of a lady while his uncle, Darcy's father, lay dying. Then looking closer, Darcy realised it, the date of Amy-Jane's conception, as recorded in indelible ink on the page in front of him, occurred very soon after his father died, when Summerville should have been in full mourning!<p>

As Richard and companions had not yet arrived, Darcy left an incomplete bet, a few pages earlier open, and asked for another, earlier book, while hoping that he'd turn up soon. Thankfully Darcy was able to convince the attendant to leave the book he actually needed while the earlier was sent for, but if Richard didn't turn up soon, Darcy was not…

Speak of the devil, Richard, with a whole gaggle of other officers arrived, acting (or Darcy hoped they were acting) as if they were in their cups, making a great deal of noise and acting the goat in the public area. Darcy was about to remove the razor when the other attendant returned. Damn! Feigning interest in this new book, but stopping the real one being removed, Darcy waited.

It was not long before Richard 'noticed' his cousin and dragged the whole collection of officers into the room with him. Richard gestured at the book in front of Darcy. Darcy shook his head and pointed to the real one. At that Richard grabbed the book Darcy appeared to be looking at and threw it to another. This started a game of piggy in the middle as the officers threw it around to keep it out of the hands of the frantic attendants. With this brilliant distraction, Darcy had every opportunity to flick out the razor, slice the page along close to the spine and whip them under his coat before starting to yell at his cousin, while nodding at him.

Richard, taking the hint, returned the book to the attendant and, to the catcalls of his companions for spoiling their fun, managed to get them to leave, before winking at Darcy as he followed them out.

Once they left, Darcy pushed the books in front of him away, saying he didn't need these, could he have two even earlier ones? That Richard and his party of officers had not left meant the attendants were more worried about them than Darcy, so he was able to better stow the cut page and razor without incident. Then, exclaiming to have found the page he needed, Darcy asked for pen and paper, and made a good deal about carefully copying the page open in front of him, even asking if he'd made a reasonable facsimile of the signatures. Once finished, Darcy thanked the attendants, apologised for his cousin and then fled in the quickest, but still dignified manner he could.

* * *

><p>Darcy sat at his desk looking at the reply to his letter in front of him, feeling very satisfied with the positive response. He felt a great deal of satisfaction that everything of his plan, formulated back on that first night at Rosings, if modified a little, was in place.<p>

Now all he could do was wait.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Part 3<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>I feel like I need to, if not apologise, at least explain, the delay of this chapter. The first draft of the section with Mr Collins was so bad, even after a number of edits that didn't really improve it, that I had to delete it. Nothing I wrote of Darcy and Mr Collins talking had any feeling of being real. It certainly made me appreciate the genius of Jane Austen, to be able to write Mr Collins absurdity so well. As I have discovered, rational conversation is far easier. <strong>

**At the time I didn't have any other ideas so carried on, writing the rest of this chapter. So last weekend, I had all but that bit ready to publish. It's taken me all this time to come up with the new section, and then edit it rather heavily, to get something that I am not that unhappy with. I have to say I am still not that happy, and suspect that bit will be heavily edited again when I re-edit the whole story once I finish. **

**Hopefully the length hasn't put you off - but I suppose if it did, you'd not be reading this. It could be two chapters, it certainly had enough going on for that, but I wanted to wrap up all the loose ends ready for Part 4 without stretching it out even further, certainly several parts of this chapter could be expanded, but I chose not to.  
><strong>


	51. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 1

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 1**

* * *

><p>Elizabeth stood at the landward end of the East Pier, looking longingly at the lookout point at the far end, a place now so familiar to her. But the weather, although fine and sunny, was too windy to walk the slippery length of it and, on the eve of their departure, Mrs Carter would be more than displeased if she managed to get drenched (again) and caught cold this close to their leaving. So she stood leaning up against the harbour wall while Amy-Jane fed the gulls the bread they would not need once they left.<p>

Elizabeth remembered feeding the Longbourn ducks so many years ago, all waddling about your feet and quacking, maybe occasionally pecking each other, but so nice, so domesticated. Feeding gulls was nothing like that. You could throw a hunk of bread in the air and they'd have it pulled apart as they dove in and swooped on it before it even touched the ground. If you weren't careful, they'd steal it from your hand even before you had time to throw it. The gulls were the dominant creature around Ramsgate, and their wildness contrasted so strongly to what she knew of the main animal around Lambton – sheep. They could not be more different.

Elizabeth sighed. The untamed combativeness of the gulls, the ever changing Channel, the sight of a squall racing in over the water from the south, the rugged coastline, the wild crashing waves, the rough and ready locals; she'd be giving all this up for the tame, domestic, controlled farmlands of Lambton and its quiet village setting. For respectability and a quiet life. Elizabeth liked, and was proud of the almost-respectability she had forged for herself here. All of it was earned, the hard way, and during those early years it had been very hard indeed.

The recent realisation of what locals had been saying behind her back and felt about her made her realise she may not have been as accepted as she always thought she had. The knowledge of her leaving appeared to give her critics licence to say things, hurtful things, they had previously not said, or at least had held off saying until she was out of earshot. But those, she could, and would, never please. What hurt possibly the most was that several of those that she thought were among her most ardent supporters, had accused her of betrayal and became quite vocal and at times even vicious in their denouncing of her morals and time in Ramsgate.

But even still, it had been difficult to say goodbye to most of the people that filled her life for five years, knowing that to make the deception of being a widow work she had to cut ties to Ramsgate almost totally. She'd not be able to maintain any of the connections, well maybe the occasional letter from a few of the most understanding of the ladies. But nothing from the men. Even as a widow, anything other than a very rare letter from a man would ruin any chance of this working. She knew how easy it was for rumours to start, and how damaging they were. Her aunt Mrs Phillips was a very good example of how effective someone with a malicious tongue could be.

It was funny, but Elizabeth could not help but feel, although she'd be back to pack up the house once they found a place in Lambton, this was farewell. Her life was about to change almost as much as it had that night in Vauxhall Gardens. Poor Mr Hawker. He had so pleaded for her heart when he found out this holiday was only the prelude to a permanent move north. But regardless of her lukewarm feelings for him, even if she married him, it would not bring respectability to Amy-Jane, only to herself. Thankfully he was able to see this, and was resigned rather than angry when she used this as the reason for turning him down for what she hoped was the last time.

So it was with very mixed feelings that Elizabeth stood there, looking over the town that had been almost the entirety of her existence for the last five years. She wondered what the ex-Admiral would do instead of their chess match most Tuesday afternoons, how Mrs Hughes would get on, her husband still many months away from returning from…

"Mummy! Mummy!" Elizabeth started, then wondered how long Amy-Jane had been tugging on her sleeve, and looked down to see what her daughter needed.

* * *

><p>The trip to London in a hired chaise and four was long and uncomfortable. Recent rain made the going slow and Amy-Jane, who had always travelled well in the past, for some reason, took exception to this trip and was at possibly her worst behaved for a very long time. Elizabeth did wonder if her own unsettled mood had affected her daughter. In any case, Elizabeth's patience was almost at breaking point when they reached the outskirts of London where, thankfully, Mrs Carter was able to distract the young girl with what was out the window. So it was with a great deal of relief less than an hour later that Elizabeth clambered out stiff and sore on to Gracechurch Street, the welcoming bright red door of the Gardiner's only a few steps away.<p>

Thankfully they had a few days in London before heading north, which gave Elizabeth the very pleasant opportunity to catch up with everything that had happened with Jane recently. While Jane was very guarded in what she said, at least in person Jane was more forthcoming than her letters. Still Elizabeth thought there was a good chance that Jane would be getting an offer, if she read between the lines of what Jane told her, as they sat up late at night, correctly. But Elizabeth's confidence in her ability to read others had been badly shaken, so she decided it best not to ask directly, in case it upset Jane. Elizabeth had hoped maybe to see Jane with her suitor, but the Bingley's had left London a couple of weeks ago. And so had the Darcy's, so a visit with Georgiana, with any painful but yet still wanted news of what her brother was doing, was out as well.

Adding to her enjoyment, there was a letter from Charlotte. Elizabeth was pleased to read that Charlotte appeared to have put behind her the disappointment of Ramsgate as the letter was full of trivialities and joyful happenstance as letters prior to her visit had been. What was most enjoyable to read was Charlotte's writing of her anticipation of moving to Lambton and with that she had started to work on convincing her father to allow it. Right at the end of the letter, squeezed into the margins, was a postscript, as if Charlotte was not sure whether to add it or not, and only did so just before sealing the letter, regarding a rumour she had heard but could not state whether it was the truth or not, and hoped this news would not upset her friend. Charlotte wrote that Mrs Bennet was making a great deal of a visit by a cousin, Mr Collins, a clergyman and the heir to Longbourn, arriving in a few weeks time to show the Bennet's were now considered respectable, at least in the eyes of the church. Elizabeth supposed her five years of absence, and Jane and Kitty's departure could have achieved that end. The next bit was, however, much less believable. Mrs Bennet also stated his sole purpose was not to inspect the property at all, as most people believed, but to obtain a wife, and Lydia would easily capture his interest and would be married before the end of the year. Charlotte also thought this was rather silly, given that it appeared the Reverend Mr Collins, had sent another letter to engage a room at the Dancing Lady, so he would not be staying at Longbourn but in the inn in Meryton itself.

The brief sojourn in London did allow one more pleasure, the newly made, but long widowed, Mrs Smith made her long delayed debut by attending a local dance the evening before they left. It was marred a little in that she had to wear one of Mrs Carmichael's older gowns, that proved just a bit tight in the bodice than Elizabeth would have liked, but her aunt was too small and Jane too slender to use either of their dresses. So, much to her chagrin, in fear of embarrassing herself, Elizabeth had to sit out the many of the dances as they had movements that were too energetic for comfort.

Even sitting out numerous sets, the evening flew by, and this was just the tonic necessary for Elizabeth to overcome her recent blue devils. She was amazed that no one questioned her 'widowhood', even the occasional times when she failed to recognise her own name when first addressed by it. What Elizabeth did not realise was that she'd made a good enough impression to be mentioned by name in a gossip column, but as it was only printed later that week, she only became aware of it when, much later, Mrs Carmichael, who had saved it specifically, showed her, much to Elizabeth's amusement.

Given the previous late night, it was at least mid-morning before the last minute packing was completed and they all piled into the two hired chaises for the trip north. When Elizabeth expressed concern that the late departure would cause problems, Mr Gardiner dismissed it, stating that they had plenty of time before they were expected in Derbyshire and, anyway, they had an itinerary that had a number of stops, and if the worse came to the worse, they could just skip one or another of the sights along the way.

* * *

><p>They made slow progress, starting fairly late, taking long lunches and quitting equally early, while also detouring to see the sights of Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth and others, and stopped often to stretch their legs and allow the children to swap coaches. The mood of the party was ebullient for the entire time, helped by the children's good behaviour and fascination with the countryside, all having lived entirely within an urban area. They asked many questions, and it turned out Jane and Elizabeth, by nature of their childhood at Longbourn, were best placed to answer them.<p>

Elizabeth raised the issue of the slow journey several times but Mr Gardiner rebuffed her concern each time, saying that they were not expected anytime soon, and had more than enough time. When pressed as to where they were to stay, Mr Gardiner dismissed the question with a general statement that it was all arranged and she was not to worry. When she asked her Aunt or Mrs Carter they only said that Mr Gardiner had arranged it and to ask him. Jane was even less help, only saying that she did not know the specific details but was sure that their Uncle had made suitable arrangements. Elizabeth thought that there was some sort of conspiracy, but had nothing specific to go on. But that was the only fly in the ointment of a thoroughly enjoyable trip. Even passing by the edge of the Matlock Estate early on the final day did not affect her mood.

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon, after previously passing by yet another small town, over a bridge beside a common, flanked by a pretty stone church on one side and a large chestnut tree on the other, that Elizabeth thought they passed through a set of estate gates. She would have liked to have seen the name, but she'd been rather too focussed on some embroidery that, for some inexplicable reason Mrs Carter had requested Elizabeth to untangle, rather than Jane, who would have been the better person to ask. But Jane was pointing something out to Amy-Jane so was occupied.<p>

"Ah," said Mrs Carter, "Nearly there."

"Are you sure?" asked Jane.

"Yes, see there," Mrs Carter pointed out something to one side, "I recognise the lodge, even after all these years, it's not changed a bit." Jane peered out through the window, which in this, the older of the two hired carriages, was more translucent than transparent. The windows were closed, even though it made it a little stuffy. They had learnt that to leave the windows down filled the interior with road dust.

"Truly?" Jane sounded very excited at the prospect.

"Yes, if in the next minute or so we drop into a close wooded defile that then later opens up and the woods themselves thin as we ascend then it is definitely the place. Once we reach the top, you will see it to the left." Mrs Carter dropped the left window. "Or was it to the right?"

Mrs Carter looked out the window. The heavy layer of leaf litter meant there was no dust, and they could see out without hindrance. "No, yes... it'll be to your left, you're the ones facing forward, so that way." She closed the window to her left and opened the one on the other side. "It'll be about ten minutes at this pace then you'll see it over there." She pointed out the open window.

"But where is there?" asked Elizabeth.

"Where we will be staying while in Derbyshire," replied Mrs Carter.

"So is Lambton at the top of the rise?"

"Where we are stay is there, yes."

Satisfied that their destination was not that far away, Elizabeth sat back and continued to untangle the embroidery. Jane kept looking out the window, obviously eager to see the sights of Lambton, while looking ready to leap out and run ahead of the coach.

"There! There Elizabeth, look!" Jane exclaimed and pointed as the woods finished at the top of a ridge and they started down the other side.

Elizabeth looked from the coach expecting to see another town, like the last, laid out in the hollow before them, but shook her head, as if to clear the vision before her, not believing the sight.

There was a large handsome house, in dressed buff stone, with symmetrical wings and a large portico with four great columns about the generous entry. It sat in a commanding place part way up the slope on the opposite side of the valley they had just entered, framed by the darker woods on the ridges behind it. The sun was starting to cast lengthening shadows and changing hue, so the clean sandstone took on a golden timbre that almost shone. This then contrasted against the cool blues and greens of the surrounding parkland and stream that ran through the middle of the small valley. The stream had been constrained in some manner to open out like a large pond in front of the house but done in such a way that it appeared natural and without artifice. The banks of the stream and gardens around were in a natural style that meant they appeared neither formal nor falsely adorned.

The beauty laid out in front of her left Elizabeth breathless. They'd visited a number of great houses in this trip, several ostentatious in the extreme, but she had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by awkward taste or over- wrought formality. It was as if someone had taken what most epitomised her view of tasteful elegance and recreated it, here in this valley in Derbyshire.

Elizabeth looked for a road leading out of the valley, maybe that was where the town of Lambton was to be found, but the road ended at the house in front of them. Looking over at the other two, Jane was blushing and looking slightly sheepish and Mrs Carter had a supercilious smile across her face. Elizabeth knew that she had been fooled somehow, but exactly how escaped her. Well, for now, anyway.

They continued down the slope towards the house. As the coach negotiated a few abrupt turns forced on the route by the landscape, causing it to lurch uncomfortably, they all saw other, equally striking, prospects over the extensive grounds. At one such turn Elizabeth thought she had seen that view before, but could not place it. The feeling that she should know exactly where this was continued as they turn the corner and that specific view was left behind. But if this was where they were to stay for the duration, Elizabeth hoped she would be given time to explore. She was sure then must be any number of paths and walks to get lost in the beauty of nature to be found here.

Before long both coaches drew to a stop and everyone climbed out stretching and shaking out their stiffness. The unpacking was left to a multitude of efficient servants that appeared as out of nowhere, while the party was led up by the butler into the house itself. The interior reflected the taste of the exterior, although with more formal arrangements, as was fitting to the public parts of the house, yet in a softer palette and more delicate touch than Elizabeth expected, reminiscent of somewhere she'd seen, possibly quite recently.

Elizabeth's nagging feeling of familiarity continued as they passed several formal portraits, but the Elizabethan costumes made matching them to someone she knew difficult. In any case she was sure the owner of this place was about to be revealed, making all her deliberations moot.

After walking down a central passageway, the butler turned and led them into a drawing room, bright with the sun streaming in from the generous windows, leaving them blinking as their eyes adjusted from the relative dark of where they had just come from.

"Ah, you've arrived at last," came a pleasant baritone that could only be…

Mr Darcy!

Elizabeth felt her face flare bright red. Oh Lord! She'd missed all the clues leading up to this moment. Turning to hide her embarrassment Elizabeth noticed that none of the others were surprised in the slightest. Her Uncle was striding forward, followed by her Aunt and then the others.

"Mr Gardiner, how good to see you arrive safe and sound. Welcome to Pemberley."

"Thank you for the invite, Mr Darcy. We had a very pleasant trip, crowned of course, by our arrival here."

Mr Darcy then turned to introduce those already in the room, "May I introduce the Baron and Baroness Trentham, Reverend Featherstone and his wife Rebecca, Charles Bingley you already know, but I'm not sure you met his sister Miss Caroline Bingley, and his brother-in-law Mr Hurst and Mrs Louisa Hurst. My sister Georgiana needs no introduction, but I doubt any of you have met her companion Mrs Ainslie."

"Greetings to you all." Replied her Uncle, and then in turn proceeded to introduce them. Elizabeth wanted to turn and run. "This is my wife, Madeline. Here's Harry, James and Emily. The baby is Anne…" Elizabeth noticed that Charles's sister Caroline looked extremely peeved at the mention of a baby, "… My mother-in-law, Mrs Carter. I believe some of you already know my niece Miss Jane Bennet, and finally, her sister, Mrs Elizabeth Smith and her daughter Amy-Jane. "

Elizabeth was mortified to notice that Mr Darcy, although saying nothing, raise his eyebrows at her being introduced as Mrs Smith. She knew that later there'd some explaining to do.

Then to make her embarrassment almost total, Amy-Jane, who had been struggling to free her hand from Elizabeth's, broke free just at that moment and ran across the room yelling "'Giana! 'Giana!" and literally threw herself into Georgiana's arms.

* * *

><p><strong>I feel like I need to if not apologise, at least explain, the delay of this chapter as well. For the most of the last 2 months, I have been a solo Dad - my wife's job has taken her overseas for several weeks at a time. So writing time has been a rare commodity. It has also given me a great deal of admiration for those single parents that don't have a partner's return to look forward to. So if you are one and reading this, I take my hat off to you.<strong>

**While I hope to be able to return to regular posting as I have done in the past, my wife often only gets a few days notice before she has to travel, and it does not look like this last few months is the end of it, so I suspect there will be further case of delayed posting.**

**But do not worry - the story is complete, if only in outline form - so all it needs is for me to flesh out each additional chapter - so to my loyal readers (and there seems to be a great deal of you, which makes me feel rather humbled), never fear, this will get finished - although probably not this year, but not long afterwards.**

**Final Note: The Gardiner's live on Gracechurch Street, not Wood Street - something specifically mentioned in P&P that I only noticed this week - so don't worry they haven't moved, it is still the same bright red door.**


	52. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 2

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 2**

* * *

><p>Darcy watched as Elizabeth blushed stronger as her daughter did what was only natural for a young child being reacquainted with someone they had not seen for some time. The child in Georgiana responded in kind, as she rose to hug Amy-Jane before realising the breach in propriety, and hurriedly sat back down, blushing also. Mrs Annesley leant over and said something. Darcy was too far away to hear what was said, but whatever it was, it seemed to settle both Georgiana and Amy-Jane. Before long the Gardiner children gathered around Georgiana as well, under the watchful eye of their mother.<p>

Darcy looked about the room while waiting for the arriving ladies to seat themselves. As he did so, Darcy noticed that Trentham and Hurst appeared entirely disinterested in the newcomers. Darcy had hoped Henry to be more engaged, given what Darcy had said regarding the nature of these visitors. Both Lady Alexandra and Miss Caroline had almost identical, disapproving faces and hard glares, caused no doubt by children being bought into the drawing room. In contrast, Louisa perked up and looked happy to have the interruption. He noted both Isaac and Rebecca also were observing the newcomers with some interest, but they had the advantage of knowing his history with Elizabeth Smith. Charles, as expected, only had eyes for Miss Jane Bennet.

This afternoon's seating arrangements were as they had been for the last few days. Lady Alexandra held court in the most prominent seat in the room, attended by Caroline and Louisa. Mrs Annesley as usual had steered Georgiana off to one side, as she explained, the Baroness's court often strayed into topics not suitable for her charge. Rebecca appear to swap between the two groups, clearly preferring the company of his sister and her companion, but mindful of the discussion he had her and her husband regarding his desire to try to make the Trenthams feel less isolated. When the gentlemen returned from their daytime activities, Rebecca often joined the men, as she found their conversation more stimulating than the ladies, as had happened today. Well, when Darcy thought gentlemen, he meant himself, Charles and Feathers. It only occasionally included Henry. Even when Trentham sat with them, he generally made little or no contribution to the discussion and was happy just to sit and stare off into space. Which was just as he did when he sat with the ladies, as he was today. Then there was Mr Hurst who was, as usual, in a seat away from the others, sitting in a manner so relaxed that Darcy thought he might be asleep. Funny how he was so lethargic when indoors, as he was a most proficient sportsman and completely indefatigable when outdoors.

So as arriving party came in, there were empty seats to the left of him, and Mr Gardiner, Mrs Carter and Miss Bennet headed that way. Charles was on his right, then Isaac and Rebecca, before a gap of a number of seats, then Louisa, Caroline and then Alexandra and Henry. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley were on the other side of the seating area, joined by Mrs Gardiner who had followed her children, accompanied by a very subdued Elizabeth. He wondered now if inviting Elizabeth to Pemberley was as good an idea as it seemed when he conceived it. Her reaction on arrival was of real concern, but there was nothing he could do about it now, what's done is done.

After the visitors sat, all the gentlemen retained their seats except Charles, who used the others' arrival as an excuse to get a drink so when he returned he sat next to Jane. Immediately the two of them started talking in low tones, not loud enough to work out what they were saying, but the animation was clear in both of their faces.

Once everyone had settled, the various conversations resumed. Mr Gardiner added his views to what Darcy and the others had been discussing, regarding the flaws in the current government's agricultural policy, prior to his arrival. During this Darcy kept glancing towards Elizabeth, and was pleased to see she lost her self-consciousness around his sister and Mrs Annesley. Although she often glanced his way, and blushed a little every time their eyes met. Good Lord that was enchanting!

After some time Caroline asked, loud enough to be heard by all in the room, "Did any of you by chance bring the more interesting London papers with you? We are sadly lacking in interesting news this far north."

Darcy noticed that she received very puzzled looks from most of the original guests as they all knew and had been reading the Times and the two other dailies that were delivered by post, only two days after being published in London.

Mr Gardiner chose to respond. "I am sorry Miss Bingley, we left London five days ago and took a leisurely trip north. So we took none of the papers, as they caught us up to us as we stayed each night." He looked at Darcy. "I do have a copy of the Times of four days ago in the coach if that is any help, although I am surprised you don't have a newer copy. Should I ring to get it fetched?"

"No need Mr Gardiner. I have The Times, The Spectator and The Morning Chronicle sent by Royal Mail daily and others, like the Globe or the Observer are sent every few days by post. Caroline…?"

"Yes, Mr Darcy?"

"These are all available in the library. Do you wish to have one or more set by your room each morning?"

"I'm not talking about those newspapers. They've got nothing interesting to read, it's all politics or business or reports of that dreadful war."

"But Caroline, the Spectator includes a lot of literary content and The Times is written for a general readership, including a whole section for the ladies."

"But nothing in any of them that really matters, Mr Darcy."

"Things that matter? What could matter more that the outcome of the war or the course this government would take?"

"I'm not talking about the things you gentlemen take care of. Ladies should not concern themselves with that sort of thing. We do not have the minds for it."

"I disagree." Interjected Rebecca, "Sometimes a woman is able to see things in a situation that the gentlemen do not."

"I agree." Added Isaac. "My wife and I often discuss current events, and her viewpoint always requires attention."

"Yes, yes, but gentlemen are not interested in the things that matter to ladies." Caroline replied.

"And what is that?" Isaac sounded intrigued.

"The ton of course. What has happened with or to all the people that matter."

"So you want to know who goes to which events? But you could pretty much guess that and be right almost every time. Or at least that was how it was a few years ago." Isaac stated what Darcy had just thought.

"Ah, yes, but it is not who goes to which event, but who does not." And then after a pause, Caroline added, "But the important thing is why?"

"Why?" Isaac chose to be the one that asked the obvious question. "Surely it is mostly illness, being out of town or attending family events. I suppose that could matter, but mostly it is only to the people involved."

"Yes, yes, but they are not the absences that matter. It is the other ones, the very interesting ones, and the why, that is what I want to know about."

"The other reasons?" said a puzzled Isaac. Darcy noticed that Isaac and Rebecca, being out of the ton for nearly five years (he did wonder if Rebecca had ever been part of it) had not got where Caroline was heading. Mr Gardiner had. So had a shocked looking Lady Alexandra. Charles and Jane were still conversing in low tones oblivious to the rest of the room. Mrs Annesley also looked concerned, as did Mrs Gardiner. Elizabeth was bent over talking to one of the children so he could not see if she'd reacted, or even noticed, then he saw the tense shape of her back and shoulders.

"The on-dits, the scandals. Who's done what or not to whom. That is what is most interesting to a lady. And these papers don't report anything but the most notorious. I have to rely on letters from those that were not able to escape in the country over summer to give me the news that matters. I love a good scandal, don't you?"

Well you could have heard a pin drop. Mrs Hurst mouth opened as if she was to about say something, most probably knowing her that she agreed, but was astute enough to gauge the others reactions and stayed silent.

"Don't you?" Caroline asked again to the room in general, while looking directly at Lady Alexandra. Darcy noticed how, with a very subtle movement, Lady Alexandra appeared to detach herself from being part of the original group of three ladies, and now seemed to be distinct from both Caroline and Louisa.

After some time, in a sulky voice, Caroline said, "Well I do. You always need to know who you should not associate with otherwise you could well make a social faux-pas." This additional statement, rather than restarting the conversation, effectively ended it.

There was an uncomfortable few minutes or more of almost complete silence, as even Charles and Jane had stopped talking. It was only the children speaking quietly that provided any sound. Before long Mrs Gardiner, rising from her seat said, "I suppose the children should retire, they've had a long journey."

This, of course, was met by cries from the children themselves saying they were not tired at all and wanted to stay. Mrs Gardiner hushed them all and started to usher them from the room. At the same time Mrs Annesley also stood and suggested that maybe Georgiana show them the schoolroom and where to find all the toys the Darcy children had played with when they were their age, to a great deal of happy comments from the children themselves. Darcy noticed that as much of the favourable comment was about Georgiana accompanying them, than about the toys themselves. Darcy watched as Elizabeth also stood with the other ladies, hoping she'd come over to join Mr Gardiner, but was disappointed as she followed the children out of the room.

* * *

><p>After they left and the men regained their seats, the various conversations failed to restart. Charles and Jane went back to being the very centre of their own world. Mr Gardiner looked as if he was happy to sit and doze off. Isaac and Rebecca whispered quickly before she got up and sat alongside Lady Alexandra, although they did not appear to actually say anything. Darcy looked over at Isaac, but he had picked up a book, so not seeing any need to cover for Caroline, he picked up a book as well. After a glance a Caroline some time later, he could tell from her expression she was aware that she'd committed a significant social faux-pas, but did not know why.<p>

Darcy was finishing the chapter when he became aware that Charles had left Jane's side and was now sitting with Mr Gardiner, talking in low tones. A glance in Jane's direction showed Rebecca had moved next to her and Isaac also, along with Lady Alexandra. Darcy finished his chapter before joining Charles and Mr Gardiner in discussing the latest wool forecasts. He did wonder how long it would be before Caroline drew the attention of the room to herself again. Previous afternoons had shown she liked to play to an audience and did not like to be left out for long. He gave it quarter of an hour at most.

So Darcy was surprised it took nearly half an hour, before Caroline, seeing an opening asked, "Mr Darcy, will we be seeing Georgiana later this evening? We've missed her at dinner recently."

Darcy was annoyed at Caroline using his sister to imply a closer acquaintance with them than his other guests. She knew Georgiana was not out, so could not have attended dinner once the others had arrived, as almost every night since they'd had a local guest as well. He'd only allowed it earlier to get Georgie used to formal dinners as, with only the Bingley's at dinner, it was not demanding as playing hostess to a table of guests, thus her absences.

Caroline continued, "I so enjoy her company."

That's funny, thought Darcy, you ignore Georgiana completely as soon as Lady Alexandra is in the room, toad-eating the lady with whom you think has the much better connections. I doubt you realise all the names she drops are from five or more years ago when she was part of the demimonde.

"And you get to enjoy it most afternoons." Replied Darcy testily.

"You must be so proud of her Mr Darcy. Do you play the pianoforte Jane?"

"No I do not Miss Bingley."

"Oh. Do you play any other instrument Jane?"

"No, I do not. I have not the talent Miss Darcy has displayed."

"You are so right. Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite. But that is just one of her many talents, she plays the harp almost as well. It does not matter, not all women are blessed with musical abilities. So what about painting or taking a likeness?"

Not getting an answer, Caroline added, "Do you Miss Bennet?"

"I am afraid not."

"Miss Georgiana took my likeness only two days ago, and I swear it was like looking in a mirror. And that is not the end to her talents, I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's. I am sure everyone would agree she is extremely accomplished for her age!"

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, joining in, "how all ladies can be so very accomplished in there different ways."

"All ladies accomplished? My dear Charles, what could you mean?" Caroline replied.

"Yes, all of them, I think. Some paint, some sing, others play the harp or pianoforte. And if not that, they cover screens, net purses or ... do things to bonnets... I hear yet more can dance like they are dancing on air. I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she is very accomplished."

"You list the common understanding of being accomplished," said Darcy, "But the word is applied to many a lady who seem only to earn it from doing just what other women can do. I think it should only be applied to ladies that have extraordinary abilities, going beyond their peers in some way. Thus I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen in the whole range of my acquaintance that are really accomplished." Darcy left unsaid that two of them have just left the room, oh, and one is still here, considering Rebecca in light of his statement.

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley in smug tones. Ha! thought Darcy, you probably put yourself in that list, but I am very sorry, you are well short.

"Then, Mr Darcy," observed Rebecca, challenging him with her look, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it. Extraordinary, means just that. It is a lady that takes themselves beyond those things that are expected of the fairer sex." Darcy watched as Rebecca sat back satisfied, she got his meaning.

"Oh! Certainly," cried Caroline missing the point completely, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

"Whether she possess this or not," added Darcy, "for me to consider her accomplished she must add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind through extensive reading and maintenance of a considered rationality."

Darcy watched as Caroline was not able to formulate a reply, given her strong avowal of disinterest any rational topic in the newspaper only last hour. It was not long after this the party broke up, Caroline leading the departures to prepare for the dinner tonight.

* * *

><p>In deference to some of his guests' long day of travel, dinner was served early.<p>

Darcy realised, as he watched the Bennet sisters arrive in the dining room, that he'd made a significant error in planning a fairly hectic few weeks of entertainment, starting with a dinner with a number of locals tomorrow. They were in new dresses for sure, but these were not appropriate for a formal dinner, and he noticed their self-consciousness when they saw the much more elaborate (and expensive) gowns the other ladies were wearing. Even Rebecca had bought several suitable gowns, Isaac ensuring she bought a complete wardrobe. Although he had told of how reluctant she was to have the 'wasteful' dresses made for her. He should have been more explicit about the nature of the time here to the Gardiner's, but had not done so in case that frightened them and Elizabeth off. But, once again, honesty would have been the best policy. He was certain Mrs Gardiner would have been able to rationalise the reason for more fancy couture.

He though Jane might fit some of his mother's dresses, but she was probably the wrong colouring, and given the dresses were at least 15 years old, they were probably out of fashion. Elizabeth had the right colouring, but there was no way that any of his mother's dresses could be made to fit. Even he knew you could take in seams, but there was no way that was not obvious to add fabric. Yet he could not, in good conscience, put them in the position where they had to spend the funds necessary to procure the new dresses they would need and, in any case, doubted that they had that much to spend.

As he led Lady Alexandra to her seat as the host and she the highest ranking lady, he paid scant attention to her chatter as he pondered how he could cancel many of the upcoming events without putting his neighbour's noses out of joint. Interrupting his musings to ensure his guests were seated, he saw that Caroline Bingley was already upset, having no one to escort her to dinner, there being an imbalance in numbers. With Miss Bennet a gentlewoman and Elizabeth having a naval second lieutenant as a husband (Darcy was ever so looking forward to that explanation, Mr Gardiner would only provide the barest details, referring all his enquiries to the lady in question for elaboration), they ranked higher than Caroline, the daughter of a merchant, and Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Hurst her superiors due to their wedded status. So at the table was Henry to his right, followed by Rebecca, Mr Gardiner, Elizabeth, Mr Hurst and finally Louisa. On the other side sat Lady Alexandra, Isaac, then Jane and Charles next to her (I'm sure he was pleased how that worked out, thought Darcy), then Mrs Gardiner and finally Caroline. He did wish Elizabeth had decided on a higher ranked husband so she'd not be so far down the table.

What appeared for the first course was not the usual Pemberley fare, Darcy had requested the cook prepare a very special menu for tonight. Although he did not explain why, it was that he wished Elizabeth's first meal at Pemberley to set the tone for the remainder of her visit. Well the cook and her staff had carried out their duties in an exemplary fashion, something Darcy was quick to have a footman relay to her. Thankfully he could rely on Isaac and Rebecca to entertain the Trentham's, as he was still too involved with his own thoughts to fulfil his role as host properly. It would have been nice to be able to delay having to think about it, but he'd need a solution tonight as the first dinner with outside guests was tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth realised how badly her best dress of patterned muslin contrasted to those of the other ladies. Jane's one was no better, but with Jane's natural grace and beauty, somehow she did not look out of place. Elizabeth had bought a couple of her older dresses dyed black with her, something Mrs Carter had suggested might be necessary when visiting the more sticklers of etiquette around Lambton, but she might have to dye most of the rest as well, because at least widow's weeds could look this drab. She felt silly to be worrying about how she looked and dressed, but the difference between her and the other ladies' clothing was too great to brush off.<p>

Looking over at her sister, Elizabeth saw Jane was also feeling self-conscious about how their dresses contrasted to the silk and lace of the other ladies. There was the reverend's wife in a very standard empire line cut dress, made from a light cerulean blue cambric, but at least Elizabeth thought the she looked like she'd prefer not to be wearing such finery, so maybe had an ally there. Standing a bit by herself was Mrs Hurst in a cream silk dress, heavy with lace, that made her look as old as Aunt Madeline, where her Aunt was wearing a much less dowdy dress, even if the cut was out of date, the rich brown silk meant it looked less out of place.

But none there could compete with the Baroness jonquil coloured dress of jacquard silk and Belgium lace. While the bodice was cut a little too daring for a country house, it was a superb example of the modiste's art, and the Baroness carried that very bold colour so very well. In contrast, Caroline Bingley wore a conservative, high-necked dress of pomona green silk. Although Elizabeth knew this was the latest fashionable colour (in was in all the fashion plates), she though it made Miss Bingley look a little unwell, she'd look better in evening primrose or something more orange.

Elizabeth was pleased that she was escorted in and seated by her Uncle, although she was also seated next to Mr Hurst, so no doubt there would be little conversation from that side. Looking across the table she was happy that she was placed opposite Charles. That Jane was sitting next to him just made her smile more. With everything having gone wrong so far, maybe the dinner would not be so bad after all. But once the service started, Elizabeth glanced several times towards the host, and saw that Mr Darcy was preoccupied and left the Reverend and his wife to carry the conversation at that end of the table.

Oh no! What Elizabeth had feared as soon as she realised where they were staying had come to pass. Her presence here was a greatly upsetting to Mr Darcy. She should not have come! Oh how she wished to be staying in the inn in Lambton, as she thought was going to be the case. Then, maybe, they could have visited here occasionally just to give Jane time with Charles. Mr Darcy must certainly think she had imposed herself on him. He'd have to act politely as a good host must, but in reality would be constantly reminded of her very hurtful words those months ago.

So Elizabeth, very uncertain of her welcome, already embarrassed about her clothing, spent most of the dinner looking down at her plate, forcing herself to eat a mouthful or two of some of the best food she'd tasted. Elizabeth did make the effort to answer any of the questions directed specifically at her, but did no more as she held back the tears that threatened to burst forth, hoping this would be the case until she was able to flee to her room.

* * *

><p>As Darcy thought of how he could possibly help the Bennet sisters to update their wardrobes, he could not help but see how affected Elizabeth was by being placed in such an untenable position. Her sister was making better of the situation, but then being in love with her suitor, Jane Bennet only had eyes for Charles would be oblivious of much of what was happening around her. How he wished that Elizabeth would look at him that way, but the few times she glanced up from staring at her plate, she looked only at those that had asked her a question before dropping her eyes again. Only once did their eyes meet, in that instance she immediately coloured and looked away.<p>

Good lord! And how much he would need the Good Lord to get him out of this one! He could already hear in his head his Grandmother scolding him for not thinking this through. What did she say was his reason for being rejected? Pride. Arrogance. Selfishness. Was not inviting Elizabeth here to satisfy his need to see her, to be close to her, just that. She clearly did not want to be here, nor had he conveyed to the Gardiners enough about his plans for them to prepare their nieces properly for the visit. He had focussed too much on the delights of Pemberley and that Charles would be here to woo Jane as the inducements, and once they'd agreed to come, made little or no mention thereafter to prevent them from pulling out.

He had to cancel dinner arranged for tomorrow. That was without question. So he spent some time coming up with a plausible reason for doing so. The best he could come up with was the journey for the last of his visitors was more taxing than they expected so he was going to postpone the dinner for a week to allow them the chance to recover. And then he hoped they'd forgive him from using them this way.

With the next dinner cancelled, it would, thankfully, mean a further two days before the next event. Georgiana had had dresses made in that time. There that was the solution! Georgie had a number of dresses still in the process of being made, from fabric mother had put aside in the attic. Mrs Reynolds would know what more was there. Anyway, mother's dresses were the old Georgian style, Darcy thought, so if there was not enough fabric, he could sacrifice several, as he was sure there would be enough material in each of the wide skirts to make at least one whole dress, maybe two. So morning, first thing, he'd ask Georgiana if she would be willing to allow the local seamstress to modify the dresses not completed for Miss Bennet and Elizabeth. Jane would only need extra length, but Elizabeth would need more material in strategic places, although he was too much of a gentleman to dwell on exactly where, at that dinner table. Then he could get a couple more gowns and several day dresses made up over the next week. It would be costly, but was not a host's responsibility to make his guests feel comfortable, in every way?

So firstly he'd need to confess all to Mr Gardiner, and Mrs Gardiner as well, to see if they'd approve of his meddling in so blatant a manner. No ask them about whether his observation was correct and see what they thought. Better still, along with his preferred solution, raise the options of them all cutting their visit short or staying out of the festivities altogether and just enjoy their holiday. Maybe best afterwards for them to approach Miss Bennet and Elizabeth and leave him out of it. Yes, that would allow her to decide, rather than having him decide for her. Realising he'd badly neglected the table, he put aside his thoughts, having come to the best solution he could think of, and focussed on his guests. His first action was to summon the footmen to clear the first serving and arrange for the second.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth had not fully regained her composure as the second serve was laid out and the other guests took a break from talking (and asking questions of her) to sample another wonderful range of dishes. She still did not feel like eating, but the enticing smells and appreciative comments reminded her that she'd not had anything to eat since they stopped at midday.<p>

She glanced back up the table at Mr Darcy. He was talking to the Baron, Lord… um… someone… best find that out before tomorrow. Her aunt would know. She had to admit the shock of seeing Mr Darcy meant she had missed the subsequent introductions. Trying to take Mr Darcy's measure without staring, Elizabeth thought he was looking less withdrawn and isolated. Good, he must have gotten used to her being here. Luckily she was far enough down the table that she was not in his immediate circle or even his line of sight.

Feeling that she'd not completely ruined his evening, she thought she best talk to the Gardiner's about her and Mrs Carter moving to the inn in Lambton, so they could start looking for a house and, admittedly, do the right thing by Mr Darcy and get her out of his life, as much as she longed for the opportunity to talk with him, to argue and disagree, yet also find common ground. Even a game of chess would be wonderful. Maybe with her not here as a constant reminder, he'd get used to her occasional visits and they could regain a little of the friendship that she'd come to value more than almost all others, even if the realisation of this occurred only after it had been ended by her intemperate words.

So as she tried, liked and ate some of the second course dishes, Elizabeth started to participate in the general conversations that had resumed. It helped that Jane and Charles had stopped talking exclusively with each other, and were also participating.

* * *

><p>Darcy felt the second course had gone down better than the first, the previous pairings now talking more generally rather than exclusively to each other. Well, except for Henry and his wife. Darcy did not appreciate overly flirtatious women, one of the things he liked about Elizabeth was she never did this, and so tried to ignore them as best he could. But Lady Alexandra seemed to take his indifference as a challenge. He hoped she'd not turn into another Caroline Bingley, which would be made worse by her being married. And to someone he was trying to rebuild a friendship with. But Darcy knew from bitter experience, it was often the married woman that were the worse.<p>

So he talked with Henry, Isaac and Rebecca, answering only direct questions from Lady Alexandra. With hindsight, Darcy realised this was the wrong move as all that had done was to spur the Baroness on to more risqué statements and double entendre. When he answered it clearly annoyed Henry, but if he ignored her it just meant she went further with her next one. Darcy noticed that with each Isaac glanced over at Miss Bennet, before turning away with relieved look afterwards, probably as Jane was so innocent that the other meaning did not register. Rebecca appeared to occasionally ask Mr Gardiner for an explanation, particularly with the ones in other languages. When she didn't get it, particularly as many were such that a gentleman could not explain them to a lady, Darcy saw Rebecca store it up for later. Poor Isaac, you'll get a number of interesting questions later tonight, thought Darcy.

Amusing as all this was, it did not help the atmosphere around the top of the table, as the more Lady Alexandra was ignored, the more she flirted, and the more reason for Darcy to ignore her. Henry gave her any number of glares and sharp looks, but this had no effect other than to prompt her to glare fiercely in reply. Thankfully both Isaac and Rebecca intervened on a regular basis to distract the Baroness from her single-minded flirtation with him.

So this end of the table was partly a battle of wits, and at times uncomfortable, but the rest of his guests appeared to be enjoying themselves, even the Bingley sisters down the other end of the table. Elizabeth seemed to have overcome her initial reaction, and the courage he knew she possessed must have come to the fore, as she was finally looking more animated now.

After the second course was removed and dessert served, with glasses of port for the gentlemen and dessert wine for the ladies, these following a good number of the better bottles of table wine from his cellar, which explained why the whole table became involved in a silly discussion, full of puns, witticisms or amusing anecdotes regarding the worst that had happened when they had travelled. Lady Alexandra did ruin it a little by using every possibility to talk of her travels abroad, something most of the rest had not experienced, being English, not of Russian extraction. Caroline Bingley then tried to match or best anything the Baroness said. Thankfully, the others interjected often with their own stories so it did not degenerate to a slanging match between the two, as it threatened to do at times. Darcy noticed the growing rancour between the two ladies, something he'd have to talk to Henry and Charles about.

Darcy was just thinking how much better the conclusion of dinner was going compared with its poor start when it all fell apart. It all started when Caroline told the story about a couple that had fallen out while travelling. It started with a slightly rambling history of how the gentleman, from a good family, had married unsuitably and the scandal this had caused, before concluding with the fact that one night on the road while staying in an inn, the husband discovered his wife had only married him for his money. That revelation, then related an excited Caroline, caused a huge argument that ended with him murdering his wife. When Caroline started on some of the specific, gruesome details, she was interrupted by her brother just as Darcy was about to intervene himself.

"I must say Caroline," said a rather indignant Charles, "What possessed you to bring this up?"

"We were all talking of leaving when we had to leave our inn in a hurry. I can say the Hursts and I left the inn as soon as we found out."

"Whatever the reason, that was totally unsuitable for a mixed dinner party."

"I guess it could have been. But it did have a valid moral to learn from."

"What are you saying? How could a story of a murder have a moral to it?" Asked Isaac.

"It showed the folly of the gentleman in marrying unsuitably. What he thought was love was just deceit and self-interest on her part. She only was after his money. There is the moral. You see it don't you Mr Darcy?"

"Sorry Miss Bingley, but I agree with Charles, I see no moral in your story, and I doubt you do either Reverend."

"You are correct Mr Darcy, I do not. There are far more appropriate verses directly from Proverbs that I could show you Miss Bingley, that talk of the foolish wife. But remember your Proverbs. A man is to prize a good wife above rubies. It behoves all gentlemen to find such a woman and marry her."

This was followed by a "Hear, hear." from Mr Gardiner, Charles, Darcy and Lord Trentham. Followed by a belated "What? Yes? Oh. Hear, hear!" from Mr Hurst as he suddenly sat erect.

"You would not accuse any of the gentlemen here of that crime would you Miss Bingley?" Lady Alexandra's comment contained a tone of malice. Darcy wondered what they had said to each other while waiting for dinner, as they had been antagonistic since dinner started.

Caroline was not going to admit she was out of order "Not deliberately. But don't you see it was the blindness of love that caused him to pick someone that was unsuitable. Is it not prudent to use reasoning not emotion for what is the most important decision in a gentleman's life? You are a rational man Mr Darcy. You would not marry a woman from the lower classes just because you were infatuated with her, would you?"

"Of course not, because infatuation is not a reason to marry…"

Before he had finished she interrupted him with, "See. Mr Darcy agrees with me." She sat back looking smug.

"Actually Miss Bingley, I had not finished. I agree only in that infatuation is not ever a reason to marry, regardless of the lady's station. It is this emotion that causes many a gentleman to make irrational decisions, sometime he goes so far as making an imprudent offer. But if it is truly love, then that is different. A very wise woman once taught me the value of the latter, as much as the folly of the former, and to know one from the other. And it behoves any gentleman to know the lady well enough to detect any deceit. Love, true love cannot be faked."

Caroline replied, "So you say. But how is he to do that, if she is working to deceive him?"

"A gentleman will have opportunities. No one can maintain that level of deception for long."

"But the easiest way to discover this would be to find out about her family. Is not a scandal caused by one family member an indication of deceit or worse in the others? The propensity for sin is certainly carried in the blood, is it not?"

Darcy was pretty sure Caroline knew nothing of the other guests' histories, and was just fishing, but he could not be certain. Thankfully, angry at her as he was, but before he went to say something unwise, Isaac stepped in again, "Did Christ not say, 'judge not lest you be judged' and, 'he is without sin cast the first stone'."

Rebecca added to her husband. "Even the Lords Prayer says 'forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us'. I think it best to comfort those families so afflicted, not condemn all for the sin of one."

Caroline appeared to pause to gather her thoughts. While frantically trying to think of something, anything to change the subject, out of the corner of his eye Darcy noticed there was a whole conversation worth of unspoken communication between Mr and Mrs Gardiner, something he'd seen long time married couples do.

Before anyone said anything, Mrs Gardiner stood, causing the gentlemen to stand also. "It has been a long day for us Mr Darcy, I feel we should retire early tonight. But please do not let our departure cause the end of your own evening."

"I am very sorry Mrs Gardiner for not noticing your fatigue, I should have paid more attention."

"No it was not your fault. The wonderful company made us all wish to stay here, but I think it best if we retire so we will be at our best for you and your guests tomorrow." Turning to the table she then continued, "I can say, on all our behalf, it was wonderful to meet you all, we will be looking forward to continuing tomorrow. Come girls." And she headed for the door, followed by Miss Bennet and Elizabeth.

"I think I shall join you also. Until tomorrow, ladies, gentlemen." Mr Gardiner bowed then followed them out.

As Darcy walked behind them to see them out, he noticed Elizabeth's bravado had failed her, she was crying. Jane Bennet looked upset but not at as far as tears, but she was also obviously angry. The Gardiners both looked disappointed. As they should be, he had failed in his role as host. As he got to the door, Darcy decided that he'd had enough of Caroline, so instead of closing it behind the departing guests, he announced, "Ladies, do you wish to head into the drawing room? I understand tea is ready to be served." While hoping that one of his servants would ensure his statement would become a reality.

Lady Alexandra, Rebecca and Louisa made directly for the door. Miss Bingley looked reluctant to leave, but she could not stay once the other ladies left. As she passed by him, she gave Darcy a look, showing she knew that somehow, she'd dug to the edge of something, and would not be satisfied until she'd exposed the whole thing. So with a pounding head, Darcy closed the door and turn back to the gentlemen.

* * *

><p>Once out of that oppressive atmosphere, Elizabeth fled to her room, as the tears fell. She was certain that Mr Darcy's comments to refute Miss Bingley was directed at her also. He wanted her to know that he saw his actions in light of an infatuation with her, leading to what he now considered was an imprudent offer. Then when Miss Bingley accused all of a family in sharing in the disgrace of one, he didn't challenge it at all, leaving it to the Reverend to quote the scriptures on forgiveness.<p>

She sat on the end of the bed, in this sumptuous room, and let the tears fall. Why did she come? Why were they staying… here… of all places? She had already realised that Darcy was the man she thought was best suited for her. It was her reaction to being rejected like this that confirmed it was more than that. It was, as he said, true love, a love that could not be faked. And it was a love that was not going to be reciprocated. That realisation, in the middle of dinner no less, and her response was what caused Mrs Gardiner to have them leave early. Miss Bingley's antipathy towards Jane was clear, and now Elizabeth had just given her the ability to ruin Jane's chances by providing confirmation there was something to dig for.

Jane came in, also upset, and the two sisters took comfort in each other's presence.

* * *

><p><strong>I feel extremely pleased with myself in getting this out in time to meet my self-imposed deadline. This chapter was fun to write - especially the bits where Caroline was being typically Caroline.<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed it. Twists and turns are yet to come.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	53. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 3

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 3**

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><p>Darcy braced himself as he turned to face the others. He didn't even get to sit down before Trentham made his views known. "Darcy, if she wasn't a woman I would have called her out over that. I've never been so close to slapping a woman since the debacle at Lady Haversham's just after I married. To even imply what she did about our marriage and my wife's motives was beyond the pale. I am considering that leaving would be the best course of action if this is the type of hospitality we are to expect."<p>

As Darcy sat, and took a generous swallow of port he wished this evening had never happened. What could he say to make up for his lapse as the host? Even if he thought Trentham was over reacting to some extent, he had a valid point. Miss Bingley had managed to insult pretty much all his guests in one day.

He was thankfully not required to eat crow, as Isaac stepped in as a peacemaker, as he had all evening, "Lord Trentham, I am as incensed by this evening as you, remember my wife and I also have been subject to similar treatment, but we will not be considering leaving just because of the intemperate remarks of one of his guests, it's not Darcy's..."

"Intemperate remarks? You are far too charitable. I think they were said deliberately."

"Yes, maybe. But I doubt they were specifically to insult."

"Who cares, they were insulting, and not just to me but to you also."

"Actually I think they were directed elsewhere, did you notice it she asked a question of our host several times. What has she against you Darcy?"

"She's had this unshakable notion that she will marry me ever since, well, since I first met her back… it was just before Father died. It was at the opera, do you remember Charles?"

Charles looked up. He'd been deep in thought.

"What? Sorry… I wasn't attending."

"Never mind Charles. Anyway, your sister seems to think we are destined for each other, regardless of anything I have done to dissuade her, so is like this whenever there are any other eligible women in the vicinity. The green eyed monster comes out every time."

"Given no one could doubt Miss Bennet's heart is fixed in one direction that leaves only Mrs Smith for her to be concerned about. I grant she is worth more than a second look, and as a widow I might just see how amenable she can be…" Darcy felt like slapping Henry. He took a deep breath and dug his nails into his hand to prevent him saying just what he wanted to, as Trentham continued, "But really, Miss Bingley cannot think Mrs Smith was competition for you? You'd not marry someone else's cast-off's, especially a second-lieutenant's, would you Darcy?" Darcy could not believe he added to his direct insult to Elizabeth with a statement that was the height of hypocrisy! Lady Alexandra was part of the demimonde for a long time before they were married, and Henry was not her first 'protector', not by a long shot.

"Actually gentlemen, before you come to blows over who my sister was aiming to insult, I shall let you know they were all directed at me." Charles stated in a deadpan voice, intervening in time to prevent Darcy from saying something he would have regretted later, well maybe regretted.

"What all of it?" asked an incredulous Henry.

"Why? And with what motive?" added Isaac.

Darcy could not quite believe it himself, the insulting statements were near perfect fit for either of the three of them, but it was hard to see how they could be applied to Charles.

"Yes, Charles, why?" asked Darcy also.

"She's not in favour of my suit with Miss Jane Bennet."

"Not in favour? Tell the truth Bingley." Darcy turned to the other two, "His sister nearly ruined it completely with deliberate lies regarding Miss Bennet's motives. Accusing her of being mercenary and worse."

"Yes, and today was just a continuation of it, Darcy. Remember this afternoon she praised your sister as a way to embarrass Miss Bennet's lack of the usual lady's accomplishments. Caroline seems to think I could be persuaded to marry Miss Darcy, or at least court her. Only because she sees that as giving her a better chance of become the Mistress of Pemberley. Actually Darcy, I think she sees marrying you as the necessary evil required to do that."

"What, marrying me a necessary evil?" Darcy had always considered himself to be a real catch, and not just for his estate, but his person also. It was a shock to learn otherwise, again.

"Sorry Darcy, but my sister has a very poor opinion of marriage in general, but then she had my parents as an example. Love, even regard, for her husband has little or no place in her consideration. It is all about connections and wealth."

"How can she be so… so…?" Darcy was lost for words, not knowing how to say it without insulting his friend.

"Mercenary? Venal? Predatory?" Charles solved his dilemma by using the words himself, "Who knows? She was the one that was closest to our Mother, maybe that is… Never mind, it does not matter from where it came, but she expects all other women to think as she does. It does not help that Caroline cannot see past Miss Bennet's current impoverished situation. She constantly forgets, or deliberate ignores that Jane is a gentlewoman, where she is only the daughter of a merchant. She sees my suit as just another of my infatuations with pretty face. Caroline cannot see past Jane's beauty to see all her other virtues as I do. I am not marrying her for her looks, as angelic as they are. It does not help that Jane is a very reserved person, something I had to learn, and does not wear her heart on her sleeve. Caroline thus thinks Jane is indifferent to me and thinks the regard is entirely on my part."

"I don't see it." Trentham retorted. "This does not explain a number of your sister's comments. What about the regular references to scandals? Your explanation makes no allowance for that. I am sure the insult was directed at my wife, Lady Alexandra specifically." Darcy knew that Henry had learnt little of the Bennet's situation, so supposed he would not realise why Caroline said what else she had done.

"Ah… Let me explain. But before I say anything more, you must both promise that this story goes no further." Charles looked directly at Darcy's two other guests.

"Sure." Said Isaac.

"What about Darcy?" Asked Henry.

"He already knows." Charles answered.

"Ah. I suppose he would. You were already in each other pockets even back then. No problem then, I promise. Out with it." Replied Trentham leaning forward looking intrigued. Darcy hoped Charles was circumspect with what he was going to say, as he was starting to feel happier that he had not told Henry of his history with Elizabeth or that of hers, and thought best to advise Isaac not to do so also.

"Jane has to live with her Uncle, Mr Gardiner in London, even though her father, who is still alive, has a moderate estate in Hertfordshire. This situation came about because one of Jane's sisters got into trouble a few years ago. Jane assisted her sister to conceal it for as long as they could at the time, but the truth got out in the end, causing a local scandal. Jane has been punished by her father ever since due to her helping her sister. This eventually meant she left to London. There is more to it than that, but this explains why Jane would be reluctant to talk about her past." Henry looked a little disappointed not to be told more, but Darcy was glad Charles had not, as he continued, "It is Caroline's nature to pry, so by not getting fulsome answers about Jane's family or ancestry just infuriated her. So she came to the obvious conclusion, correct so it happens, that there must be a scandal to cause a gentlewoman to deflect the questions as she does. However, while I know the whole detail, Caroline does not, nor does she know that I know, thus her attempt to highlight this at every opportunity, hoping at some point I will realise my folly. Jane's arrival today just gave her a larger audience than she usually gets for this.

"So as much as I apologise for my sisters words, as her brother I take full responsibility for them, I won't insult your intelligence by apologising on her behalf. In fact she will not be told that her words insult more than her intended victim, just to prevent her causing more trouble."

"Apology accepted Bingley," said Isaac.

"And from me as well" added Henry, "although I suspect I will have a greater job of mollifying my wife than you will have with yours Feathers. So, that in mind, I best be off, I've found it best not to leave her to stew any longer than necessary" said Henry, standing.

"That is good advice, I think I'll join you" said Isaac, as he also stood.

With that, both Henry and Isaac left the dining room to the farewells of both Darcy and Bingley

As Darcy was shutting the door, he noted that the door to the drawing room was open and servants were clearing out the room already. He wondered if the offended ladies had even bothered with the pretence of going to the drawing room or left Caroline and Louisa to their own devices. Whatever the case, they had all retired in the time it took for the other men folk to depart.

Surveying the detritus of the disastrous dinner, Darcy sat down with a thump and a sigh. "They've all gone to bed as well, Bingley."

"So should we join the ladies?"

"No. I just told you, the ladies have gone to bed also."

"Oh. Sorry, I mistook you. So, just us eh Darcy?"

"Just us Bingley. Let's head to the library."

"Certainly Darcy." Charles got up and retrieved several of the unfinished bottles. "I'll take these. Can you grab that last one. The one to your left?" he asked over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

"Sure." Darcy took the bottle.

"Hey Darcy, however the evening turned out, the food and wine were superb." Charles talked as he walked off towards the library

"There is that, but I cannot take any credit for it. The menu was Mrs Reynolds, with help from Georgie. Any remaining credit must go to the cook and her staff who executed each and every dish to such a high standard." Darcy caught up as Bingley reached the library door. Reaching past his friend, he opened it and let them both in.

They both sat for a while, in companionable silence, finishing off the wine before changing to brandy (Darcy own poison of choice) or whiskey (how Charles drank that, Darcy could not tell, he had to be fairly far gone, and there be no other option, before he did). Darcy sat and brooded on the evening and his 'solution' - growing more and more uncertain to even offer what was a considerable breech of propriety and smacked of offering the Bennet sisters' charity. Charles was content to let him sit, and said nothing himself, obviously he had his own thoughts about this evening to wrestle with.

Eventually, Darcy's thoughts returned to Bingley's comment just before they both lapsed into silence. "Actually, Bingley, I've been thinking about it, and the food was the only good thing tonight."

"I don't know Darcy. I think most of the time it was not contentious. And the beginning wasn't too bad."

"Not too bad?... I suppose you didn't notice. How was Jane when she walked in for dinner?"

"As beautiful as ever."

"And what was she wearing?"

"Um... Was it blue? No, don't answer... I'm sure it was blue."

"Yes, you're right, but only because Jane favours that colour. What about Elizabeth, what was she wearing?"

"Um... Ah... Give me a minute..." There was a pause. "No, couldn't tell you. My guess would be that jonil colour."

"Jonquil." Darcy realised, due a being the guardian to his sister, he knew far more about fashion, colours and fabric than most gentlemen. And wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

"Yes, you know, that yellow colour."

"No. She was in a pimrose patterned muslin dress."

"So, not yellow then?"

"No, pimrose is a type of yellow, but pale, almost cream. But don't you see the point, they both wore muslin dresses."

"So?"

"All the other ladies were in silks or similar, with lace and velvet trim."

"Oh... Oh dear. They weren't too embarrassed were they?"

"Well Jane was a little, but your presence made up for it, but Elizabeth spent the first part of dinner looking down at her plate."

"She seemed fine towards the end, well until my sister ruined it. Don't worry about it, they'll cope. I doubt they are too caught up in all of that. Jane isn't. "

"Yes. Maybe they will. But it is partly my fault."

"How can it be your fault?"

"I downplayed what I planned when they were here..." Charles look puzzled, so Darcy continued, "Look, if I'd given the Gardiners a better idea of the occasion, they could've ensured both their nieces had a few better quality dresses. I'm planning on approaching Mr Gardiner first thing tomorrow about their stay here. You know him better than I, how is he regarding his nieces? I'm sure he's protective, but to what extent?"

"I suppose it depends. What are you going to ask him?"

"Several things. Firstly I'll apologise for placing his party in this predicament."

"That always works."

"Yes, of course. Well then I will suggest that they may want to have quiet holiday and excuse them from the festivities planned for the next few weeks, it is that or help them arrange accommodation in Lambton. Personally I'd prefer to cancel everything planned so they'd stay but the invites have all been sent. But you see my dilemma, can't you? I won't put them in the position of always appearing the poor relative."

"True."

Darcy let out a deep sigh. "I had another idea, but it was too forward."

"What was it? Maybe I can help."

"Georgiana has a few dresses being made that haven't been finished... And I thought - don't get mad - maybe I'll ask Georgia if she'd mind them being altered to fit Jane and Elizabeth. And then get a full range made up in Lambton, rushed it would take less than a week, from the fabric stored in the attic. But you know..." It even sounded stupid when he said it to Charles.

"Actually Darcy that's brilliant!" Darcy was not expecting that reaction as Charles continued, "I doubt Mr Gardiner would refuse, given the sentiment in which the offer was made. I wonder if I snuck a few of Caroline's in as well. I can do it when we pack up tomorrow… Hey Darcy, I've got a better idea, if you don't mind?"

Darcy gestured for Bingley to continue, "I'll make the offer. Yes. I'll say I talked to you about it, and you were willing to go with my plan, even offering Georgie's unfinished dresses to help. It'd be less of an issue coming from me. And I can explain it as my way of making up for my sister's appalling comments against the lady I intend to marry."

"So you have an understanding then?" That news was a surprise to Darcy.

"No, but I've talked with Mr Gardiner about the settlement."

"So she's said yes then? You've both kept that quiet."

"Actually, I've not asked her. But I planned to do so soon."

"So she's not actually said yes?"

"Well, no, but it's a foregone conclusion Darcy."

"Don't count your chickens Bingley. I assumed a yes and see where that got me… They are sisters after all."

"Yes, but I know she has regard for me."

"Touché Bingley."

"Your day will come. I did notice Elizabeth often glanced your way later in the dinner. She's not indifferent to you, you know. But take it slowly, Darcy. Don't rush her like you did last time or you'll wreck your chances."

"You're one to talk!"

"Let's call that one each. Look, if it alright with you, I'll talk to Mr Gardiner first, and let you know what he said. That way you'll know whether you even need to make your offer."

"Thank you Bingley."

"Don't mention it. Look one thing I must tell you, we will be leaving tomorrow."

"You're leaving?"

"We are. I told you earlier. I'm taking Caroline, Louisa and Hurst to Scarborough before I return alone."

"Is that not unfair on Hurst or Louisa? It's not like they did anything."

"Ah yes, but on the other hand they didn't stop Caroline, and they could have. But I can't leave the Hursts behind. That would be unfair."

"Whatever you feel is best Bingley, but actually…"

"Yes Darcy?"

"I'm rather enjoying your brother-in-law's being here. Who would have believed Hurst had such a good seat."

"I have to confess, Darcy, I didn't even know he rode."

"What?"

"Well, he's never done so while in London. Quite honestly, I thought he slept all day, rising only for dinner and the walk to the liquor cabinet to the fullest extent of his exertions. I just assumed he was the same on his many trips to the countryside. But there you go. It just shows people you think you know well can still surprise you."

"True. True. Look I'll be sorry to see you go, but I realise why you've had to do this. What can I say to the other guests?"

"Ah. Tell them we had to go to see our Great Aunt in Scarborough, which is mostly true. I've threaten Caroline with her for several years now, and this time she's gone too far, so she's given me very e choice. Well, the Hursts can go where ever they like, but Caroline will be going with to Scarborough."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"I'll give her an ultimatum. It's either go with me, or with the Hursts. But I'll make it clear that if she goes with the Hursts I wash my hands of her, completely, including the paying of all her bills."

"Would the Hursts' support her?"

"Hah! Hurst can't really support Louisa's desires on his allowance, why do you think they stay at my place so often? He's not likely to want to add the cost of a sister-in-law. No, Hurst will extemporise, but Louisa knows the lay of the land, she'll not accept it either, particularly as she'll know that if Caroline goes with them, they'll all be banned from the London House."

"You seem to have thought it all out."

"I've had many weeks to consider."

"Weeks? But didn't she just…?"

"Look, if it wasn't tonight, it would've been when I told Caroline I was marrying Jane, so in many ways, Caroline's done me a favour. I can put my foot down now, rather than have her spoil my engagement announcement with any spiteful comments."

"Ah… Is there anything I can do?"

"Um… Err… Maybe…" Bingley looked uncomfortable and paused.

"Well? What is it?"

"I just realised that Caroline might refuse to leave. Do I have your backing to force the issue?"

"Certainly. I'm willing to come in on it if you wish it."

"No. But I'll let you know when I am telling Caroline what will happen. Could you be in your office or the library if I need you? It should be late morning."

"No problem, I've a few fences to check with David Brown, but that can be done first thing tomorrow. Look, it's late… I'm off to bed, early start and all that. See you tomorrow Bingley." Darcy rose, but gestured to Charles to stay put when he started to rise as well.

Charles continued to stand, "I might as well get some sleep as well. It'll be a fraught day tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was pleased to see no one in the breakfast room other than a few footmen clearing the remains of someone else's breakfast. She was surprised to not be the first to breakfast, not expecting any of the others to be up this early.<p>

Walking over to the buffet, Elizabeth saw there was a generous spread of delicious smelling food laid out. Selecting a generous helping of most dishes, she discovered the quality of breakfast matched that of last night, and so went back for a second helping – but only to make up for her desultory effort of last night – of course. Elizabeth ate this second helping slowly, hoping that at least one of her party might appear, but she finished without being disturbed.

The desire to talk with anyone of her party conflicted with the need to walk off all this good food. Elizabeth delayed for some time flicking through yesterday's papers, but the reports of the war, all those dead, maimed or wounded depressed her, the political commentary was incomprehensible given she'd not bothered to follow parliament recently and she could not muster any enthusiasm for the gossip columns. In the end, her desultory examination of the papers well and truly over, Elizabeth walked out of the breakfast room, through the rear and out into the Pemberley grounds.

The early morning light gave Pemberley's buff sandstone an ethereal slivery quality that was very different to the golden glow of late afternoon yesterday, but just as enchanting. The only thing that could make this vista better would be tendrils of mist, hugging the low spots around the pond and threaded through trees, but the morning was too advanced for mist – had the fine day even had any to start with – but Elizabeth could easily imagine it there and walking through it.

Elizabeth left the environs of the house itself and headed off into the extensive gardens that rambled and sprawled away to the south of the house. It matched the more expansive parklands, in that it was done in a way that enhanced nature not constrained it. The garden designer had used a light hand, letting the plant grow naturally, not forced into straight lines or unnatural shapes as was common in the great halls they visited on the way here. Elizabeth found this garden far more peaceful and calming, relaxing and welcoming than those, and yet it was busier and messier, filed as it was with far more plants than the other gardens and with the unrestrained and vibrant colours and scents of a veritable riot of summer flowers; red, pink and white roses climbing over arbours, honeysuckle draped over the latticework of the gazebo, pungent clumps of lavender, hydrangea bushes clad almost completely with its glorious clumps of pink or blue flowers, flower beds scattered with white daisies, pansies - all purple and mauve, golden marigolds, tall and proud carnations, soft bunches of peonies, the widest assortment of lilies Elizabeth had ever seen and many other flowers, too many to remember, all overlooked by delphinium, foxglove and hollyhock standing tall like soldiers at attention.

As she wandered in and amongst them, in admiration, and let face it, a certain amount of envy as well, she wondered if, once they were settled in Lambton, the Head Gardener would allow her to take cuttings from many of these to plant out in her garden. Now the small garden of a country cottage could not compete in any way with this, but she wanted, at least a little of this slice of heaven – particularly the beautifully perfumed pale pink climbing rose. It did not matter that the pink flower was not as large as the pure white roses or as striking as the bold red roses, but those both produced less than half the scent this small pink rose did. She could see a simple trellised gate covered in this particular rose, as the entrance to a garden that would be hers entirely. Something she had started to do in Longbourn, and could not do in the paved yard at Ramsgate.

Although she could have spent all day here, this was in full view of one end of the house, so desiring privacy, Elizabeth reluctantly went through the gate in the back wall. There, inside a protective hedge of elderberry and hawthorn, grew the herbs for the kitchen; parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, tarragon, dill, marjoram, these she could identify easily enough, but there were others Elizabeth was less sure of. But most of this garden was set aside for fruits; strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, shaded by apple, pear, plum and cherry trees, laden with fruit still unripe. Elizabeth felt guilty, and looked around before plucking and eating some of the ripest raspberries, the hints of a wonderful flavour there but still a little tart to taste. To her considerable disappointment, search as she could, Elizabeth could not find even a single strawberry that was even close to being ready.

Starting guilty when she heard the kitchen garden gate open, Elizabeth feigned indifference and strolled nonchalantly away from whoever had followed her, hoping it was one of the staff not a guest, and she headed now towards the wooded hill behind Pemberley to lose her herself in the paths she assumed would be there.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth returned once she noticed the sun had almost risen overhead. She wanted to have lunch with Amy-Jane, and to check whether she had been good for Georgiana and her friend's companion, Mrs Annesley. They had promised to look after all the children, Mrs Annesley had asked in particular, having previously been a governess, and as she explained, missed the company of young children. So Mrs Gardiner and Elizabeth, gave into the children's pleadings and allowed it.<p>

Choosing a servants door at the rear of the house, Elizabeth surprised a few servants as they were carrying out their duties. Getting out of their way, prompting a smile from each, Elizabeth quickly made her way to the hall that ran through the first floor.

She was more than halfway to the stairs when she heard the sound of a reasonable sized party coming down and heading this way. As they all came closer, what they were saying became intelligible, and she caught what sounded like Mr Bingley saying "…and Louisa can head to London or come with Caroline and I once everything is packed." This was followed by an indistinct reply, then a clearly annoyed Miss Bingley saying "I've not agreed to leave, so you go by yourself Charles."

Knowing how plain her current dress was, both it and her person now dusty and unkempt by her nature ramble, an encounter with that lady was the last thing Elizabeth wished for now, so she turned left immediately into a short hallway before they came into view, as Mr Bingley spoke again, "We are leaving Caroline. Your conduct of yesterday has made it impossible to trespass on Darcy's hospitality any… No Caroline, you will not say anything until I have spoken my piece. But this is not a discussion for others, so we will adjourn to the music room where we can talk further undisturbed."

Elizabeth tried to remember where the music room was. Realising she'd walked past it on the way here, it meant that the Bingleys and Hursts will be walking past any time now, and it was now too late to head the other way!

In a panic tried the two doors on the left, but both were locked! The first on the right was also locked!

Hurrying over to the last door, Elizabeth tried it. It was unlocked!

Elizabeth rushed into the room, and quickly turned to close the door behind her, with a "Phew!" of relief, seeing Mr Bingley just come into view as the door shut.

"Good morning Mrs Smith." The woman's pleasant greeting startled Elizabeth.

Oh dear she'd barged into a senior servant's office! Most likely the housekeeper's, but it might be the butler's or cook's office. Elizabeth turned to face. The woman, seated, had already turned towards her and was smiling rather than looking annoyed at the interruption. She was older, possible the same age as Mrs Carter, and from the way she was dressed, most likely the housekeeper.

"I hope everything is to your satisfaction Mrs Smith?"

"Ah... Yes, yes they are, Mrs…?"

"Oh silly me, I forgot to introduce myself. Mrs Reynolds. I'm the housekeeper here at Pemberley. I've been corresponding with Mrs Carter so long that I forgot that although I know of you very well, you don't know me at all."

Elizabeth smiled weakly, so the housekeeper will know of her deception as Mrs Smith, that was something she hoped to have limited to Mr Darcy.

"Ah… Oh… Ah… Pleased to… Ah… Meet you Mrs Reynolds." Embarrassed by that realisation, Elizabeth could only stammer out a pitiful greeting.

"Mrs Carter's letters made me very much want to meet the courageous young lady and her daughter that had come to live with her. And now I have. Excellent! I hope to be able to introduce you around once you are settled. Oh, please take a seat. Or do you need anything?"

"No. No. Nothing at all… Um… I just got … lost. I'll be going now. I didn't wish to disturb you."

"Of course not. You would never disturb me. Here, if you wish, I can show you around Pemberley, get you familiar with the place. I expect you'll need to know it fairly well."

"That is very kind of you, but…" Elizabeth gestured at her dress.

"No problem. You just go up to change. Actually, here I'll take you via the servant stairs, that way you'll not disturb the other guests." Mrs Reynolds got up and ushered Elizabeth back out, but only after she had looked out herself. Then the housekeeper walked up to what had appeared to be the blank wall at the back of the hallway, did something and part of the wall opened up revealing a short corridor, and off it, a set of stairs.

"Oh I suspect I'll have to show you how to access all these before long…"

Elizabeth looked puzzled, why would she need to know about the servant's access? But before she had time to really ponder on it, they were climbing the stairs.

As they got to the top and headed left, Mrs Reynolds spoke again. "Oh, but no need today… plenty of time… plenty of time." But she seemed to be more talking to herself than to me, thought Elizabeth, as they carried on down a back hall. Although plain, it was as clean and tidy as the public areas of the house. Clearly Mrs Reynolds knew her job and ensured the parts even the family was unlikely to see was kept to the same very high standards.

They walked a long way down this corridor, reaching the end before popping out of another concealed door just one door from her own room. Now Elizabeth knew what to look for she spotted a few more along the hallway,.

"Do you like your room Mrs Smith?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Of course you would. It is not the largest of the guest rooms, they were given to the Baron and Baroness, but Mr Darcy was quite specific that you get this one, which everyone who stays here regularly always comments on as having the best prospects in two directions, being a corner room as it is. Ah. Good. I see Bessie has laid out your clothes as instructed. Bessie!"

A younger maid entered the room from the bathing chamber attached to her room. There was something familiar about her face, but Elizabeth couldn't place it.

"Mrs Smith. This is Bessie. She will be looking after you while you are here. Please let her know if you need anything, anything at all. If Bessie can't get it herself, she's been told to come to see me or the Butler immediately."

"'ello ma'am." Bessie curtsied. Elizabeth wasn't quite used to this type of deference.

"Hello Bessie. Please to meet you."

"I's pleased to meet you too ma'am. As Ms Reynolds says, if you's want anything, anything at all, just ask me."

"Thank you Bessie. And thank you, Mrs Reynolds."

"Don't mention it, Mrs Smith. I best be getting back. But if at any time you want to be shown more of Pemberley, please just come to my office or send Bessie to fetch me. I'm sure you'll need to know the layout of this rambling old place sooner or later. Just send Bessie when you have changed."

"I was planning to have lunch with my daughter." Elizabeth said apologetically, Mrs Reynolds must have put aside time to show each guest around, and she was upsetting the housekeeper's plans.

"Oh, of course you would. No problem, any time really. I am at your complete disposal. Good bye Mrs Smith. Hope to see you soon."

"Good bye Mrs Reynolds… maybe this afternoon?" Elizabeth said tentatively.

"Only if you are free Mrs Smith. As I said, anytime, anytime at all."

"Oh. Certainly. Until later?"

"Of course Mrs Smith. Later." And with that, Mrs Reynolds left, closing the door firmly behind her, although Elizabeth noticed, not before giving Bessie a reassuring smile. As Bessie assisted Elizabeth out of her dress, they got in each other's way as this was not something Elizabeth was used to, her clothing made so she could dress herself. However, things went much better once Elizabeth finally worked out it was better to let Bessie get on with it without her 'help'. There was much muttering over the state of her dress once it was off, but Bessie assured her that the laundry maids were the 'best in the county, everyone says so' and she would see to it personally that the dress came back as good as new. This was something Elizabeth wanted to see, given the dress was far from new now, so they would have to somehow turn back time.

No longer having to take an active part in her change of clothing, gave Elizabeth time to remember why Bessie seemed familiar, she appeared to be a younger version of Agnes.

"There you go ma'am. You's all ready for the world again."

"Thank you Bessie. Are you any chance related to a maid called Agnes from Darcy House?"

"I'm 'er neice, ma'am. Mrs Reynolds says that if I's do a good job I's could become a proper Lady's Maid."

"I am sure you will, I've been very happy so far."

"Oh thank you ma'am!" And at that a beaming Bessie rushed off with her old dress.

The funny thing was, a day later Bessie came in late afternoon, very proudly displaying the dress Elizabeth had worn the previous morning. To Elizabeth's astonishment, it was almost as good as new. The laundry maids, obviously, could not restore the faded colour, but all the stains had gone, and given she was a mother, there were more than the ones she had done yesterday. Better still, the places were the seams had gone a little or the lace unravelled a bit, all were fixed as if they had never happened. Bessie, or someone, must have spent a good deal of time finding every single spot of damage (Elizabeth knew they had, as she looked – but only after Bessie had gone) and repaired each so carefully that it was hard to see it had ever been damaged in the first place. Actually, Elizabeth guessed she'd have missed some of the repairs, given how good the ones she found were. Elizabeth made a special point to ensure Bessie knew how happy she was and grateful for the repairs.

* * *

><p>Lunch with the children was a lot noisier and far more chaotic than Elizabeth had been used to with just Amy-Jane, and it seemed all the children were treating their new location as an excuse to misbehave. All that Mrs Annesley, herself, Aunt Madeline and a maid called Hannah, who's daughter Lisa was also present, along with a couple of other servant's children, tried to do did not work other than stop the worst of the silliness. It did not help that Georgiana was in a very silly mood herself, and hindered rather than helped to maintain decorum. So Elizabeth was feeling a bit frazzled by the time the children had finished and the younger ones taken off for their afternoon naps.<p>

The adults were all happily sitting down and enjoying a break, having all agreed that Georgiana's punishment was to read to the older children, when Mr Gardiner's head popped around the door. Elizabeth's Aunt hopped up and walked over to her husband. After a moment's discussion, Mrs Gardiner gestured for her to join them.

After she reached the hallway, she noticed Jane was there as well, when Mr Gardiner said. "Elizabeth, can you come with us? Mr Bingley has something to ask."

"Certainly. What about…"

"Don't worry about the children, Madeline will look after Amy-Jane for you."

"Wouldn't she need to come with us?"

"No, Mr Bingley only needs to talk the two of you."

Elizabeth was intrigued, "Oh, good. Well, can we go?"

"Of course. Come with me." Mr Gardiner led the way down to the first floor and into the music room. Mr Bingley was standing there alone as their uncle ushered them in.

"Good afternoon Mrs Smith, Miss Bennet."

"Good afternoon Mr Bingley", they said in reply.

Mr Bingley went to say something several times, but failed each time, before changing tack. "Ah, please sit down."

Elizabeth watched as Jane sat so there was a chair next to her, but Mr Bingley chose to sit opposite them both. Glancing back, Elizabeth noticed her Uncle was standing, in a protective manner behind them both. She had a sinking feeling, and noticed Jane looking pale. Had Miss Bingley's cruel words finally had an impact? Elizabeth hoped they hadn't but dreaded they just might have.

"Ah… Um…" Mr Bingley appeared unable to come to the point. This did not bode well at all.

"Mr Bingley. Best just to state it plainly. My girls will understand." Said Mr Gardiner from behind them.

"Ah, of course, yes. Miss Bennet, Jane. I want to offer my most heartfelt apologies for my sister's conduct of yesterday. And the same to you Mrs Smith." As he said this, his shoulders slumped and he looked only at the ground. Elizabeth suddenly realised she should breathe, and heard a similar gasp from her sister.

Mr Bingley ran his hands through his hair, then sat their tensely, his hands on his head. After a few moments he mumbled a bit, "Yes. I would have asked Caroline to be here to offer the apology herself, but she still does not see the need for it, which only lessens the value of my apology. I can only hope that you will accept my apology in the absence of hers."

"Of course Mr Bingley" replied Jane as Elizabeth said herself, "Apology accepted without question."

Mr Bingley looked up, as he continued "I must tell you her intransigence in this has left me no choice but for my entire party to depart this afternoon. I will not allow Darcy's hospitality to be imposed on in this way. I plan to return as soon as I have my sister settled in Scarborough with our Great Aunt, but given what has happened I regret I can not let you know, Jane, when I will be back."

"It does not matter Charles."

"Thank you Jane. Anyway, I have a request to make." Mr Bingley paused, looking over their heads. Once he saw some sort of signal from Mr Gardiner he continued. "Yes, a request. I think that part of her nature is to… No that doesn't matter. Anyway, I noticed that Darcy's invitation was not specific enough to ensure you were properly prepared for this visit, and Mr Gardiner has agreed with me. So in the nature of reparation, I can offer to provide you both with clothing more…more…" here Mr Bingley paused.

"Better quality? Nicer fabrics? More in keeping with the occasion?" Elizabeth decided to help him out.

"Yes Mrs Smith, more in keeping with the occasion. Later last night I was able to discuss this with Darcy, and he was willing to assist me in making an offer of a number of new items for each of your wardrobes."

Elizabeth looked over at Jane, who was looking back at her. What could she say? Was there anything to say? With this house as an example, any clothing provided would be of the finest quality silks, velvets and lace. There would never be an opportunity like this. But then there was a huge problem with accepting a gift from an unmarried man, although this would be worse for Jane than her. Elizabeth looked back at her Uncle, who was nodding.

"It is a most generous offer Mr Bingley, my nieces will accept, won't you?"

"Of course Uncle", said Jane. Elizabeth gave a more qualified, simple "Yes."

"And how do you see this happening Mr Bingley?" added their Uncle.

Mr Bingley sighed in relief. "Ah. Well, Darcy's sister, Georgiana, has several garments in the process of being made that she has very generously allowed me to offer to you to have made up to fit. These, I am assured can be made ready in only a day or two's time. After that, Darcy has said there is any amount of suitable fabric in the attic to chose from, and that I can offer any or all of it for your use. He feels in part culpable as host, which is why he is being this generous, but I have tried to reassure him that he is in no way to blame, my sister is entirely at fault. I tell you this in hope that you see his reasons for him assisting me in this matter, as I can but hope that this small gesture could mitigate the smallest part of my family's insult to the pair of you and through you the Gardiner's as well. A seamstress from Lambton is due soon, and she can adapt the partly completed dresses, as well as take measurements to make the rest once you've selected the other fabrics. Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, has agreed to personally assist with all of this, and will be available as soon as I depart. But before I go, as I need to ensure my party departs on time, is there anything else you wish to ask?"

Their Uncle answered for them, "No Mr Bingley. You go, I know how many little things need attending to in the eve of your departure. We can only say we hope to see you back here very soon."

Mr Bingley got up, "Yes, I hope to settle my sister and be back in a little over a se'enight. So until then… Oh… the Hursts offer their apologies, and hope to have chance to know you better sometime in the future. So, good bye until I return."

"Good bye Mr Bingley," said Elizabeth, as she saw Jane get up and clasp Mr Bingley's hands in her own. Jane said something, but not in words, before Mr Bingley let her hands go and hurried from the room.

True to his word, Mrs Reynolds appeared soon after he departed, and the seamstress arrived within the hour. There was a lot of work to do to adjust Georgiana's incomplete garments to either Jane – these had to have another flounce added to the bottom – or herself – the length was almost right, but the bodice and hips needed considerable adjustments. But the seamstress assured them that when she returned tomorrow, there would only be the final few things before these first few dresses would be ready. After that they were poked, prodded, turned and arranged as the seamstress took a large number of measurements. Mrs Reynolds and the seamstress spent some time discussing things as Bessie helped them out of what they were wearing without tearing any of the temporary stitching.

After that the remainder of the afternoon was spent climbing around in the attic spaces, looking at any number of chests full of fabrics, lace, ribbons, beading and every other possible accoutrement for the growing range of gowns, spensers, petticoats, slips, morning dresses, wraps and other items that kept being mentioned. Mrs Reynolds was a garrulous companion, chatting with them or telling stories provoked by items in each chest they opened, and she had many, many stories due to her long years of service, with her having being made housekeeper even before Mr Darcy's mother had passed away. They marvelled at the wonderful fabrics, although they thought Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy were being far too generous with what was on offer. But both Jane and Elizabeth drew the line when Mrs Reynolds offered to reuse some of Mr Darcy's mother's gowns, however wonderful the fabric. Although it was with some regret when they did not find any spare fabric of the material used for a beautiful gold silk gown of Mrs Darcy's. Elizabeth's eyes kept slipping over to it as they searched the chests for the fabric. But, search as they may, they had no luck with that one.

* * *

><p><strong>What, if anything, does Mrs Reynolds know, or at least think she knows? Will Caroline be back to Pemberley? Ever? How long do you think Bingley will wait before making an offer once he returns? How many garments will Jane and Elizabeth end up with?<strong>

**For these answers (maybe) and others, there is always next chapter.**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	54. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 4

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>Mrs Carter, both Gardiners, Jane and Elizabeth got up early on Sunday, as did the Featherstones, meeting them all at the top of the stairs. Elizabeth, now feeling more comfortable with being here, started a conversation with Mrs Featherstone as they descended that carried on into the breakfast room. She both was looking forward to, but also feeling a bit apprehensive about, meeting Mr Darcy, but he was conspicuously absent. Soon after they all had started Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley arrived, but they could not shed any light on Mr Darcy's whereabouts, as they knew nothing. Thus the table conversation stopped and started, each time the door opened, they all looked to see if was the host, but in vain.<p>

Everyone was nearly finished when the Trenthams arrived, although the entire party heard them arguing as the approached, they stopped before they opened the door, and then sat at different parts of the table noticeably ignoring each other, nor did they make any effort to join in the conversations of others. Elizabeth watched as each of the Featherstones tried to talk to the Baron or Baroness separately but were rebuffed. Breakfast finished, they all left the uncommunicative pair to their own devices and went off, each to their own room to prepare for church.

Elizabeth wondered whether they would have the service here in Pemberley, as she had seen a small chapel at the end of the northern wing, or go into Lambton to the church there. She felt a bit foolish having to speculate, Miss Darcy had been at breakfast, but no one had bothered to ask her the arrangements.

They all met up again in the large foyer, standing around chatting (and waiting for their host) when the butler, a Mr Groser, came and announced carriages to take them to Lambton were ready for Mr Darcy's guests. He also apologised for their host's absence, explaining that Mr Darcy had been called away because of a failed culvert, but had told him, that if he did not return in time, to have his guests go without him, as he would instead meet them at the church.

So there was nothing to do but climb into the carriages out front.

* * *

><p>As soon as they alighted from the carriages, Mrs Carter spotted a few people she knew well, and dragged them over to meet the locals. Elizabeth felt a bit swamped by all the introductions, as her previous experience had generally not been favourable, thus she was very apprehensive. But the hundreds, it was probably much less, but it felt like hundreds, were all friendly and welcoming. Mrs Carter appeared to have written to about half of the village, as most seemed to know Elizabeth and her daughter already (even if in the guise of Mrs Smith! Elizabeth still wasn't sure how she felt about this). So the time before the service started was a bit of blur of names, faces, questions and exclamations of joy when they found out Mrs Carter (with Mrs Smith and her daughter) were planning on returning.<p>

In typical fashion, the locals all sensed the time had come and moved into the church building, without their needing an announcement. As visitors to the area, they ended up towards the back, almost filling their pew, Mrs Carter closest to the wall, Mrs Gardiner, holding little Anne, then the rest of the Gardiner children, Emily, Harry and James, before Mr Gardiner, Jane, Amy-Jane and finally herself. Elizabeth supposed ending up on the aisle was her 'punishment' for hanging back, still not comfortable, slightly fearful of this many new people. She had kept waiting for one of them to denounce her, silly really, but it was ingrained as any habit of several years duration. Reverend Grenville's recent arrival had made it worse, leaving her now jumping at shadows.

As the assembled parishioners rose for the first hymn, Elizabeth could easily notice the back of Mr Darcy's head as he stood considerably taller than most of the locals. The locals sang well and with considerable volume, but Elizabeth still thought she could pick Mr Darcy's baritone distinct from the throng. The liturgy continued, its familiar cadence and consistency comforting, on through the additional hymns, the reading and psalm and then to the sermon. Rector Dawson's delivery of this was good and engaging, but Elizabeth could even picture in her mind the particular book of sermons he must have derived it from, even if she could not remember it exactly. But she was sure she'd read this sermon or one very like it any number of times, as Mrs Carter had kept all her husband's books, which most were books of sermons or similar, and they were usually the only thing available to read to pass the long winter evenings.

As Elizabeth's mind wandered, not needing to pay attention, she was often drawn to look at the back of a particular head showing above those between them. Mr Darcy was, she assumed, sitting in the Darcy family pew. Alongside him she saw the partly visible fair hair of his sister and a little of the lace cap of Mrs Annesley. It struck Elizabeth at that moment that for him, there in his pew sat the entirety of his immediate family, and one of those was a hired companion. Glancing back at her own, with its five adults, and five more children, she could not help but feel a great deal of sympathy for him. He had all the appearance of having everything you should want, but little of what she knew a person needed. They had both, in essence, lost parents, family, even if her's were still alive, but she had de-facto ones in her Uncle and Aunt and Mrs Carter whereas, from her knowledge of his family, learnt from his cousin Richard, Mr Darcy was very much on his own. Reliant on no one, but not supported by anyone either. This realisation made her see him in a new light, some of the aloofness, what she'd always had seen as arrogance, could well be just a result of isolation. Amy-Jane's fidgeting put paid to this line of thought and so Elizabeth spent the rest of the sermon, which thankfully was drawing to a close, amusing her daughter quietly instead.

* * *

><p>Sometime after the service was over, Elizabeth found herself standing off to one side, momentarily abandoned by her companions. They hadn't left her deliberately, but without them, even Jane, Elizabeth was reluctant to push herself forward and talk to what were to her complete strangers, however well they thought they knew her.<p>

As Elizabeth stood there lost in her own thoughts, considering what it might be like to live here, she became aware that she was not alone, Mr Darcy was standing alongside her. She wondered how long had he been there and, not wanting to seem rude, turned to him saying, "Good morning Mr Darcy, or is it afternoon?"

Mr Darcy glanced at his watch, "Morning, but only just."

"So I was right at first… again, good morning Mr Darcy."

"As you so often are… Good morning Mrs Smith."

There was much she needed to say to him, to explain, but this was not the time, nor the place.

"We missed you at breakfast this morning Mr Darcy."

"Ah, yes… Sorry."

"Is it serious… you know… the failed culvert?"

"No, no. It's not fixed, but the debris has been cleared so it doesn't block the drain any."

There was a pause, a long pause. With none of her companions looking like they were returning Elizabeth frantically tried to think of something else to say.

"Do you come to church often?" Immediately after she said this inane comment Elizabeth felt the heat flush her face. She could have kicked herself. Would he think she was implying that she thought he was so immoral not to attend church at all?

"Ah… Yes, we come here whenever we are at Pemberley. The chapel there is only for guests, really. My great-grandfather added it when my great-grandmother was too infirm to travel into Lambtom. Did you know Mr Carter used to be the… no of course you did. Sorry."

She didn't know what to say in reply. Elizabeth felt tongue-tied and awkward, and wondered if Mr Darcy was feeling annoyed with her. There was another pause.

"What do you think of Lambton, Mrs Smith?"

"It seems like a nice place, but I haven't had a chance to…"

"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!" A loud voice interrupted. Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy turned towards them, looking annoyed, but was it her or the interruption?

"Ah John. One moment." He turned back to her, "I am sorry Mrs Smith, but John Conchie is the tenant where the culvert is, and I will need to deal with this now. Can we talk later?"

"Certainly Mr Darcy." With that reassurance he smiled at her, before turning and walking off towards the gentleman that could only be Mr Conchie.

Soon after they all returned to Pemberley. On the trip back Elizabeth learned that Reverend Featherstone was in fact Methodist not Anglican. This led to a discussion on the theological differences between the two denominations, something Elizabeth found interesting, although in the end, she could not see how these minor difference had caused the level of antagonistic behaviour between the two churches she had encountered - Reverend Grenville in particular denounced the Methodists, well and all others, as heretics and damned for all eternity on a fairly regular basis, but his most vehement denunciation was always for the Papists, of course, which he said were the very agents of Lucifer himself. She did wonder whether he ever considered that if it wasn't for Henry VIII's desire for an heir England would still be Catholic to this day. She mentioned this to Reverend Featherstone. He said it was an interesting proposition, but then asked her to consider whether the protestant revival could have originated in England and, if not, would it have taken root here once it started on the Continent. This led to a lively, if inconclusive, discussion all the way back.

* * *

><p>After a light meal, the party retired to the music room, where Lady Alexandra entertained the party with first a well played violin concerto and then, accompanied by her husband on the piano, delighted all with a beautifully sung aria. Elizabeth saw the way Lord Trentham looked at his wife, the adoration in his eyes was clear, and wondered if she'd ever receive that level of devotion. Mrs Annesley spoke quietly to Georgiana, but after Georgie shook her head, Mrs Annesley did not push the issue further. Elizabeth was pleased Georgiana was not forced to perform if she didn't want to, but hoped that in time she'd feel comfortable to do so, as she was wonderful to listen to. Mrs Annesley then got up and played a long passage, of something Elizabeth could not identify, on the harp, some sort of variations on a theme, fascinating as she varied the tempo, melody or tune yet was still identifiable as the original work. When pressed for the composer by those listening, Mrs Annesley admitted that the original arrangement was Beethoven, but she'd improvised the variations after she'd finished the composer's score. The considerable compliments that followed caused her to act as shy as her charge usually was.<p>

During this Elizabeth kept looking at the door with each noise, but Mr Darcy failed to appear each time. She must have been coming too obvious, as Jane leant over at some point to ask, "Lizzy, who are you expecting? Mrs Carter said she'd not be back until after dinner and Charles is not going to be back for several days at least.

Elizabeth tried to brush Jane off, "No one, no one in particular."

Jane gave her a look, but said nothing.

"Ah... it's just… I keep expecting Miss Bingley to come through the door." This extra explanation seemed to satisfy Jane and she sat back again.

After that Elizabeth made a pointed effort to avoid looking for Mr Darcy's arrival. In the end she needed not bother, he was out all afternoon and even arrived at the last minute for dinner, explaining that the culvert had failed further and he had to arrange a temporary bridge for the tenants that used the path that crossed the culvert for access. This led to a discussion, that became heated at times, between Mr Darcy and Lord Trentham regarding the requirement of the land owner to repair (and pay for, which was the real contention) things that only the tenant gained the benefit of, and from that into differing opinions on the other duties and obligations of the landlord. Mr Darcy was generally supported by her Uncle and Reverend Featherstone, although as they did not own land, they were often in a position of not having an opinion.

While the gentlemen carried on like this most of the first course, the ladies took the opportunity to get better acquainted. Elizabeth learnt that Mrs Featherstone wanted children, but had no success as yet, while Lady Alexandra dreaded the possibility, arguing the effect bearing a child could have on her figure or social activities during the lying in. Elizabeth let her know that, as a mother, you could be active for most of that time, and that the joys of a child rapidly overcame any loss that might occur to your social life. The Baroness muttered something - Elizabeth though was along the lines of 'as if you'd have a social life to start with' - but Mrs Gardiner spoke over the top of it and Elizabeth could not be certain.

The second course started with Mr Darcy making the welcome announcement (well for most, Elizabeth personally was fairly ambivalent to the news, but saw the enjoyment this caused the others) that he had invited number of the locals to dinner on Wednesday, and a larger number for a ball on Friday night, and finally a fete that was open to everyone in the Lambton area will be held on the Pemberley grounds the very next day. When asked the reason, Mr Darcy explained the mid-summer ball and fete was a long-standing Pemberley tradition, although it had been in abeyance for a few years, but Mr Darcy justified reviving it as it had been a long time since he'd hosted such a distinguished or important set of guests. Elizabeth felt his gaze on her the entire time he said all of this. Aunt Madeline noticed, and she got a meaningful look from her Aunt as well. The announcement led to a general conversation, not split by gender as previous, on balls, fetes or other country estate entertainment. Elizabeth did wonder about the Trenthams, as they talked often of events they attended, but never mentioned any they hosted.

The ladies and gentlemen separated briefly after dinner, for as long as was proper, but certainly no longer. While Lady Alexandra did try to dominate the ladies conversation, but was not usually let have her way by all the other ladies but Jane, which caused her to be a bit sharp at times, the atmosphere contained none of the nastiness that Miss Bingley bought to the room. When the gentlemen returned, they talked of uncontroversial things, so while they all enjoyed the rest of the evening, given this was the Lord's Day, everyone retired early.

* * *

><p>First thing Monday morning Darcy sat down with his butler and housekeeper to confirm that the dinner Wednesday, the ball Friday night and the fete the following day would go ahead as planned. Thankfully both Mrs Reynolds and Groser were already housekeeper and butler, if newly appointed, when his mother had been alive, as it had been that long since Pemberley hosted its last fete, so they knew most of what they needed to know regarding the setup and preparations for it. Even so, Groser came to see him a dozen times a day, to get his opinion on this or that, often quite trivial things. Thankfully Mrs Reynolds had her part well in hand and he only had to answer one or two questions from her the entire week. He also asked Mrs Renyolds that she take care of the menus as she had for the last weeks as he had much else to take care of. She reassured him she would have it all well in hand.<p>

With it being the height of summer, there was much that he'd had to keep an eye on outside the house as well, so Darcy found himself out and about with David Brown at least once every day, sorting out fences that needed mending, ditches to clear, the repair of that blasted culvert to supervise! All took him away from his guests and time with Elizabeth. Then there was the time Darcy knew he had to spend with his gentlemen guests, in some outdoor pursuit or another. Mr Gardiner was a keen angler, and with Bingley and Hurst gone, both Isaac and Henry were indifferent horsemen so it was often the morning was spent fishing or shooting, leaving all but the urgent estate matters having to be done in the afternoon. By the time this was finished, the ladies had often left to prepare for the evening. All in all, very frustrating!

But, one of the main reasons for devoting so much time with the gentlemen, even if it meant missing the ladies, was to spend it with Baron Trentham in particular. Darcy was trying to rekindle the friendship they both shared, but found it frustratingly difficult. Trentham no longer seemed to be the man he once was, or was it that he himself had changed in the 5 years they had been out of contact? It was not like this with Isaac. With him it was like the whole 5 years was just a brief interlude and they were able to carry on like it never happened. Darcy gave it until the end of the week, if things had not changed he'd alter his priorities to try to spend more time with the ladies, and in particular, if he could arrange it, Elizabeth.

For the rest of that week, Darcy tried to vary his breakfast, as best he was able. He had hoped to catch Elizabeth when she was also doing so, but before the others rose, as he wanted to another chance to talk with her, given how poorly he'd done so the first time he'd managed to find her alone. 'How do you like Lambton?' what a silly question to ask, he could have kicked himself. She'd even made the obvious reply she'd not seen any of it yet, and then the interruption of John Conchie - most annoying. But whatever time he planned it, he missed her.

Late Wednesday morning, while preparing to go out on estate matters, Darcy thought he saw Elizabeth walking along the ridge above the rear of Pemberley, but the lady was too far away to be certain it was her, and even if it was, she was too far away for him to get there before she would have moved on. The only interaction possible was during the late afternoon and evening meal, but as much as he wanted to, he could not neglect his duties as host. As a result, Darcy started to rue the formal separation of the sexes and the nature of polite discourse allowed when they came together.

During the dinner that night, when once again a chance to talk with Elizabeth was interrupted by his duty as host, he started to long for the ball, and his one, possibly two sets with Elizabeth. But Darcy realised even that second set was pushing what he get away with, he'd not danced two sets with any lady, even the married ones, since he'd assumed the role of Master of Pemberley, and his first ever 'second dance' would be definitely be noticed and gossiped about. But at least for the length of a set, he could have a personal conversation, if interrupted by the movements of the dance, with only her.

As Darcy waved off the last of the locals that had come to the dinner that night he gave a large sigh of relief, thinking how well it went. But it could well have been a disaster. Lord and Lady Trentham were at their most officious. But rather than being off-putting, his neighbours, not used to nobility, thought they were all that a Baron and a Lady were supposed to be and lapped up being looked down on or sneered at. Isaac and Rebecca were well received, even when they found he was a Methodist priest, and their ready wit was a highlight of many a conversation. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were as affable as he had come to expect, and they continued to reacquaint themselves with those they hadn't seen for some ten years or more.

Miss Bennet looked lovely in her new dress. If Darcy hadn't known better he'd never have believed it had originally been for someone else. But she was clearly missing Bingley. She was all that was polite and charming, but he could tell her attention was not here. He was sure she joined in from duty not pleasure, and he knew as one that was often in that position himself.

Last, but definitely not least, there was Elizabeth. He thought she looked simply ravishing - he admitted he was biased, but he was certain there would be no reason she could not pass herself off in the height of the ton without pause. Darcy kept a surreptitious eye on her all night, hoping not to be too obvious, and smiled (possibly at inopportune moments from the way those he sat next to glanced at him) whenever there were flashes of the wit and charm that so captivated him. This opinion was borne out once the party separated after dinner by some very complimentary comments, and a few off-colour ones of both Bennet sisters (although his frowns at the couple of gentlemen that had the temerity to make those quickly nipped that in the bud) and the general opinion was that Mrs Smith's permanent arrival to Lambton could not come soon enough.

Still, the evening had gone on long into the night, it was near midnight before the last of the locals left. The near full moon and few clouds gave enough light that they could stay so late. Darcy had arranged for cold cuts for breakfast and luncheon the next day so the servants, who did such a fine job again, and would still be up clearing and cleaning even after he went to bed would not have too much to do tomorrow.

Thankfully the other gentlemen chose to sleep in - well Mr Gardiner did not, but he left early to do yet more fishing even as Darcy was still breaking his fast and more or less told Darcy he was not needed, and to get some rest from his duties as host. This gave Darcy a 'morning off', after waiting for Elizabeth but again missing her, he did what he had promised and went upstairs to fill Georgiana in on everything that happened last night, as she was not able to attend.

* * *

><p>Having not stayed up late Sunday night, Elizabeth got up at day break, as she was used to doing in Ramsgate. This meant she was up before Bessie arrived, so was free from her assistance first thing in the morning. At least this way, Elizabeth thought, I get to put my own clothes on for once. After dressing, she left and went straight to the kitchens, as the breakfast was not yet served, and ignoring the glare of the cook, who obviously wanted the guests to keep their place, she grabbed a couple of slices of the bread, baked fresh that morning, still hot enough to need juggling while it cooled, and an apple before heading out the door to enjoy the sights and sounds of the countryside as it woke up. It was something of Longbourn she'd missed all those years at Ramsgate.<p>

Skipping like she was still a child, Elizabeth headed around to the front of Pemberley, intending to head out in to the parks beyond the immediate area of the house today. As she skirted the pond, passing through the light tendrils of mist, the first signs of life were already apparent; damselflies and dragonflies hovered around the reeds, water boatmen scuttled across the surface, and any number of beetles, all shades and hues, each a little living jewel, droned about. Other insects darted and buzzed in and out of view, each with their own errands to run.

As she crossed the bridge at the outlet side, Elizabeth was startled by the loud plop! as a frog dove in of a half-submerged branch. Once across Elizabeth spotted a summerhouse off to the left, previously hidden by the willows of the water's edge. As it looked to have a panoramic vista of the pond, she headed there instead of out into the park. Climbing the steps and entering the raised dais under the summerhouse roof, Elizabeth chose the bench closest to the water and sat, after brushing off a few leaves, feet up and her arms around her knees, the thought of going further no longer tempting.

Elizabeth sat there contentedly, as the pond's activity changed as the sun rose further and further into the sky. She tried to think what life would be like for the mistress of this place. Something, had she not had principles, that could well have been hers. But gaining all this and losing Amy-Jane would have broken her. Regardless of the beauty around her, tempting as it was, Elizabeth knew she'd made the right choice, and knew this place would be forever out of her reach, other than a place to visit occasionally. Anyway, she justified to herself, Mr Darcy will have gotten over his infatuation with her by now, and probably also as pleased as she was that she had it in her heart to turn him down.

Knowing it was getting late, well late for her, it was in fact still fairly early, Elizabeth realised she had to go get Amy-Jane up. How any child of hers could sleep so, when the sun was up and life had re-awoken was a bit of mystery to Elizabeth, but then Mrs Carter also liked to be a slug-a-bed, maybe that was where it came from.

Glad that Mrs Reynolds had shown her the servants' hallways, Elizabeth was able to reach the top floor, where the children had their rooms. Rooms! One to each room! Every time Elizabeth thought she'd got used to the size of Pemberley, another thing reminded her of just how big it was (and thus how wealthy Mr Darcy must be). Elizabeth brushed her dress straight and picked off a few twigs and leaves before entering the nursery.

"Elizabeth, how are you?" said her aunt, looking over while helping Amy-Jane into her pinafore. Mrs Annesley and Hannah the nursemaid also had a child each, midway through dressing.

"I'm good." Elizabeth hurried over, "No, I can do that Aunt Madeline."

"Nonsense. If you need something to do, go get James up. Once you are done, you can go."

"Sorry?"

"As I told you on the way here, this is supposed to be a holiday. For all of us. I'll take care of Amy-Jane. You go have fun with all the other young people."

"No, she's my daughter, I..."

Aunt Gardiner interrupted, "There. Finished Amy-Jane... You go over with Mrs Annesley. I am sure breakfast will be arriving soon." Her aunt grasped Elizabeth by her arm and led her off to one side as Amy-Jane ran off.

"Look Elizabeth, Eleanor and...

"Eleanor?"

"Mrs Annesley."

"Oh."

"Yes, Eleanor and I have everything under control. You go join your sister, with the other young people and have some fun. Have you had a break from being a mother for..."

"You don't stop being a mother, you know that!"

"Shhh, Elizabeth. I didn't say that. I told you to take a break from having to do the day to day things. We can take care of all of that. There are several weeks of entertainment planned, so just relax and enjoy it. Dance every dance, stay up late talking, socialise with people your age, whatever you want. And encourage your sister to do the same."

"But..."

"But what? Think girl, how often will this opportunity come your way? If the locals see you in this company, they will treat you with respect and courtesy when you do settle here."

"That's not why I'm..."

"Here? Actually that is why you are here, and also to keep your sister company while we all hope Mr Bingley will come to the point. And think somewhere out there they might just be a gentleman for you..."

"Ha!"

"Don't you 'ha' me, you've not seen that much of life, whatever you think. There is a gentleman out there, one that you can accept as he accepts you as you are, knowing your history and Amy-Jane's as well. You can agree it is a possibility, can't you?"

"I suppose. But..."

"I know you've not experienced anything but unwelcome advances in Ramsgate. But think of this as a new start, and treat it like such. You'll find Derbyshire much different than there. I'm not asking you to lie about your circumstances, when the time comes, but allow the opportunity for romance to present itself. That is all I ask."

"Fine. I'll keep an open mind. Satisfied?" Her aunt nodded. "But I still need to look after Amy-Jane. She is my daughter."

Mrs Gardiner sighed before replying, "Elizabeth, no one is taking her away from you. It is just how can romance start if you are up from early morning and drifting off in the middle of dinner?"

"But what about you?"

"Worrying about your old Aunt are you?"

"You're not old!"

"Of course I'm not, and that applies double to you. I'll sit with the matrons. I've done my time at dances and balls. You… You, I expect to flirt outrageously with every eligible man as you dance every dance, you've years to catch up on. With your and Jane's looks I expect Mr Gardiner will have to fight all your admirers off with a stick before long."

"Aunt Madeline!"

Elizabeth's aunt laughed. "Alright, you don't need to shock the locals. But promise me you will forget you are a mother, just once in a while and enjoy your evenings."

"But I couldn't, not without feeling guilty about abandoning my daughter, I just can't!"

"I did say to abandon her. Look, how about a compromise. You come up here to get Amy-Jane ready for breakfast, in fact share it with us, then go on your rambles then - that way you don't need to get up at the crack of dawn as you are used to. You'll ruin your looks if you burn the candle at both ends. Will that suit?"

"Yes, I can agree to that. But what about luncheon?"

"No problem if you pop back up. But off you go with the other ladies when the children go down for their sleep. Actually I'll join you. Have you talked much with the Baroness or Mrs Featherstone?"

"Not really. I find Lady Alexandra a little stand-offish, but Mrs Featherstone has been nice the times I have spoken to her."

"Oh. I have to admit, I've found very much the same as well. But with Amy-Jane well cared for... remember Georgiana is not yet out, so she'll be up here more often than not, so there are three of them even without us... So with Amy-Jane well cared for, we will have the perfect opportunity to find out a bit more about them both. Maybe you can get Jane to tell more of Mr Bingley. She's very tight lipped for all I've tried to learn of her situation."

"Don't press her Aunt. She'll tell us when she's ready..."

"I suppose, but don't you want to know?"

"Of course I do, but Jane will tell us when she's good and ready, and not before. She's always been like that."

"True. Anyway, we can both leave the ladies soon after the men folk arrive and come back to see to Amy-Jane's supper and send her off to bed before preparing for dinner yourself. That will leave you plenty of energy for the evening's festivities. Will you agree?"

"Yes. I suppose Amy-Jane will enjoy spending time with Georgiana. She became very attached to 'her Gi'ana' in Ramsgate, while I spent the time caring for the Colonel."

"There you go. Amy-Jane will be fine. Give her some time spent away from you. It will be good for her as well. I'm sure you want her to grown into a confident woman, and that means letting go. Best to do it in small steps..."

"I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am. So are you going for a ramble in the park?"

"Can't I stay? I've already been for a walk this morning."

"No! If you don't go now, you'll not be able to do it tomorrow. Off with you. If you've already gone for a walk, then explore Pemberley. If I recall correctly, they have a wonderful picture gallery, you'll appreciate there are a number of landscapes, not all are portraits of stuffy old ancestors."

"Are you sure I can't..."

"No. No you can't. Not today. Amy-Jane! Come over and give your mummy a kiss goodbye."

Amy-Jane ran over, gave Elizabeth a brief hug, then a perfunctory peck on the cheek after her mother bent down, then ran off again. Elizabeth felt cheated, while her Aunt looked a bit smug.

"See Elizabeth, she's happy… Off you go."

Even knowing she was no longer needed, Elizabeth stood for a few moments, just watching Amy-Jane as she returned to playing with James, before turning to leave.

* * *

><p>The picture gallery was easy to find, as it extended along the front of most of the second floor, with large windows allowing a great deal of light to illuminate the room. The wall opposite the windows was almost completely covered with a range of different paintings. After spending considerable time wandering the gallery, enjoying the silence, Elizabeth found herself skipping past most of the portraits of Darcy's long past, concentrating on the smaller number of landscapes. Some were obviously of Pemberley itself, although a few of an earlier time with a smaller, less imposing building. Others she thought were of the park or the estate, but it would have been nice to have more than an artist and date on the plaque, so she could be sure.<p>

One portrait did cause her to stand still, studying it for many a minute, deep in thought. It was a full length portrait, about half life sized, of Mr Darcy himself. The date on the plaque meant it would have been painted a little over eight years ago. The artist was not one that Elizabeth knew of, but he had captured his self-confident manner, something she would have interpreted as pride and arrogance earlier. Mr Darcy was smiling, a smile she knew well, one that she chose to recall frequently, and hoped to be able to provoke often in the future..

Once she moved on, the portraits now held more interest, as each time Elizabeth thought she found the original ancestor of a trait he inherited – his warm brown of his hair, the piercing brown eyes or that beautiful dimple when he smiled - and it drew her back to study his portrait again, just to be certain. By the time she went downstairs for lunch Elizabeth no longer needed to stand next to it to see the portrait in her minds-eye.

* * *

><p>After lunch Elizabeth wandered through the public rooms downstairs, looking at yet more paintings hung all about the walls. There were more to look at, and enjoy, as here were mostly landscapes and religious or classical allegories, with only a few portraits.<p>

In a room off the library, Elizabeth found and was examining a table of miniatures having picked up the one of Mr Darcy. She had just decided it must have been painted at about the same time as the larger portrait upstairs when she heard the door open behind her.

"Ah, there you are Mrs Smith. Can I disturb you for a moment?"

Elizabeth turned to see Mrs Reynolds approaching.

"Of course you can Mrs Reynolds. What can I do for you?"

Mrs Reynolds was now standing alongside her and saw her interest in the miniatures. "I see you've found my late master's miniatures. This was his favourite room."

Elizabeth put the miniature back under the watchful eye of Mrs Reynolds, fluffing about like an overly protective mother hen. "Mrs Smith, have you seen the larger portrait of Mr Darcy upstairs? It was painted when my master returned from his first term at Cambridge."

"Yes I have. And a very good likeness it is. Who is the artist?"

"Frank Randall, a local Derby man. Does a good number of the portraits in this area, although his eyesight is failing a little, god bless him. Mr Darcy, that is the late Mr Darcy, would not countenance bringing in a foreigner when a local Derby man could do the work."

"And a fine job he did to, Mrs Reynolds. It's as good as many of the Dutch or Flemish painters on the walls here."

"Of course it is... See that miniature of Miss Darcy... It's by Randall as well. Oh, and this one of Mr Wickham as well. He had become a bit wild when this was painted. Left Lambton soon after, him and the master did not always see eye to eye, like. But he likely had changed a bit since then. Sadly you'll not be able to meet him now. He died tragically in a robbery in an inn down south. Must have been doing something heroic I imagine. Must have been for the Master to pay for his body to be bought home and buried next to his own parents. The Master wrote a beautiful eulogy and all, and he certainly keeps this miniature in pride of place, I've seen him hold it and look wistfully as he... Oops, don't mind me, I sometimes say too much. Forget I ever said anything."

"Of course, Mrs Reynolds... What was it you wanted?"

"The first of the dresses have arrived. Your sister, Miss Bennet, has already finished the final fitting of hers. Do you mind doing the same?"

So the next hour was spent as the local seamstress made the final few alterations, before departing, promising to return the finished dresses the next day. Mrs Reynolds chatted away happily as Bessie assisted. Elizabeth did wonder why she was asked questions of menu preferences, but assumed that the housekeeper was canvassing all the guests. Funny thing was, Mrs Reynolds asked more questions about the menus and activities of the fete when opportunity presented itself throughout the week, although mostly it was to confirm a decision Mrs Reynolds said had already made, although she was happy to change to anything Elizabeth suggested. She supposed Georgiana was providing the original decisions, and must have mentioned that Elizabeth had provided the young lady guidance in the past and Mrs Reynolds was just taking her cue from Georgiana. Still, it was odd, if rather flattering.

Sometime during fitting of the new dresses, Bessie had taken away her morning outfit, and replaced it with something far more suitable for company. With little choice to change dresses, Elizabeth endured Bessie getting her into the much nicer outfit. Taking the hint and now suitably attired, Elizabeth gave up her solitary art appreciation to join the other ladies in the drawing room.

So while Lady Alexandra was acting imperious, Elizabeth thought she was trying too hard to impress Jane, she spent time talking with Mrs Featherstone. By the time the afternoon had concluded they were on a first name basis, and Elizabeth thought they were well on the way to becoming good friends. Elizabeth shared some of her experiences as a mother living alone, prompted by Rebecca's questions, while learning of Rebecca's childhood in a London orphanage, and later at a charity school. This left Elizabeth very grateful for her own childhood, and what she'd been able to provide Amy-Jane.

Tuesday and Wednesday were the same, Elizabeth trying to be good and spending only breakfast and then lunch with her daughter, by going for a long walk after breakfast instead and joining the other ladies for the afternoon. Elizabeth was reluctant to concede Mrs Gardiner's point, but Amy-Jane appeared happy not to have her mother around, and showed little sign of missing her.

Wednesday afternoon was memorable, not just for the glorious weather that made walking through the flower garden with the other ladies mandatory, but that it led to a long conversation with Jane. This time, for whatever reason, Jane was much more candid than she'd ever been since they both lived in Longbourn, speaking of the depth of her feelings for Mr Bingley and her certainty of her regard being returned. To Elizabeth, Jane appeared unnaturally calm so she questioned how Jane could be so certain. In reply Jane told Elizabeth of the contents of a letter Mr Bingley had slipped under her door the day he left. Elizabeth was astonished to discover that Mr Bingley's letter, written as it was to reassure Jane, to whom he addressed as 'my love', that she was not to fear his sister's words, they had only hardened his resolve to do what his heart dictated rather than sending him off course in any way, and on his return he would do what was required to ensure that no one could do anything to separate them in the future. Learning all of this Elizabeth could not see how her sister could remain calm in these circumstances. She'd be both overly excited and inwardly anxious in equal measure. Worst of it was, after Jane told her, Jane swore her to not just to secrecy, but from showing any sign of knowing anything. Elizabeth was not certain she could contain her own excitement, even if Jane could.

Later that Wednesday, as Elizabeth dressed for dinner the conflict she felt in having to try to conceal Jane's news made her feel nervous about meeting the upcoming guests. It did not help that since Mr Bingley had left, the reason for them to even be at Pemberley had gone. So it was with some trepidation, although now in one of the beautiful dresses Mr Bingley had provided for her and Jane that she went in to be presented to those that had already arrived. After the initial introductions of the few that had arrived, Elizabeth found herself standing off to one side with only Rebecca as company, as Jane seemingly serene and untroubled, was already mingling. Elizabeth felt a great deal of relief when Rebecca confessed she was feeling nervous, and Elizabeth was quick to confess she felt the same way and, as they both discovered, for the same reasons – neither had much experience with the upper levels of society, and felt like they were on trial somehow. But Elizabeth found she was encouraged by some genuine compliments from Rebecca, and thought she was able to do the same in reverse. So, as a combined front they both sallied forth to do battle with the locals on this social occasion.

In the end, with Rebecca by her side for a good deal of it, Elizabeth felt the dinner had gone very well indeed as she met any number of local land owners, their wives and a few of their adult children as well. The guest list appeared to be concocted of all important families of the area. Elizabeth noticed how well Mr Darcy seemed to fit into this group of people, pleasingly more mature and considered than the other young gentlemen of similar age. The small numbers of his contemporaries could be ribald at times - once or twice going beyond the pale for mixed company, Something that Elizabeth feared might be directed at her. But it did not happen, as Mr Gardiner occasionally and Mr Darcy often were close at hand when some gentlemen Mr Darcy's age paid particular attention towards her. They ensured that the conversation was kept seemly, as Elizabeth knew full well, a widow could often be considered in a different light than other unmarried ladies, something she was well acquainted with in Ramsgate.

It was getting close to midnight when the dinner wound down and the last of the guests left. But Elizabeth and Rebecca were not yet ready to call it a night. Neither was Jane so so they all ended up in Jane's room, and continued talking into the wee small hours as they compared their own impressions on the people they met. Elizabeth found herself nodding in agreement with many of Rebecca's astute observations, and added a number of her own. It appeared to Elizabeth that every town must have at least one lady like her mother, as Jane showed a hitherto unknown (at least to Elizabeth) talent for mimicry, having them all in absolute stitches, as she related some of the silly things she'd overheard, particularly a series of anecdotes that could only be called the 'collected wisdom of Mrs Cole'.

* * *

><p>For the first time in a very long time, Elizabeth did not wake at dawn. The sun was already high in the sky when Elizabeth was woken by her Aunt coming in to see if she was alright. Her aunt's presence, initially, caused a bit of a panic, but Mrs Gardiner reassured her that everything was in hand, Georgiana was there reading to the children, while she had come to escort Elizabeth to breakfast and ensure she not rush her morning.<p>

When they went downstairs, Elizabeth discovered that neither Jane or Rebecca had gotten up as yet, and they only arrived later, first Rebecca and then Jane as she was finishing her own breakfast. This then delayed Elizabeth from going as she felt torn between not appearing rude by abandoning her sister and now good friend Rebecca who wanted to talk about the previous night's dinner more (and Elizabeth herself was interested in Mrs Gardiner's views on some of the guests) and her desire to go up to see Amy-Jane.

In the end Elizabeth stayed even after her Aunt and Rebecca had left as it was obvious Jane wanted reassurance from Elizabeth that she was being accepted by the locals. Elizabeth was very happy to give this, confident, from her own observations, that Jane had made a very favourable impression, but it did beg the question why it mattered, given that it was herself that was going to stay in the area, not Jane. It took much wheedling to get the information out of Jane, but in the end, Elizabeth was surprised, but even more excited, to learn that Mr Bingley had also mentioned in his letter (something Jane had not mentioned yesterday) that he was looking to buy an estate soon, and was considering several close to Pemberley and wondered if Jane would like to live in Derbyshire after they marry. After a great deal of good natured ribbing about Jane saying only the part of the letter that hinted at an offer, rather than the part that confirmed his intentions, Elizabeth could only partly express the joy that having her sister living so close could mean to her. Jane was very apologetic but justified that she didn't say anything earlier because she was told not to tell anyone, as Mr Bingley said he did not want to get Jane's hopes up too high as he might not find a suitable property. But in the end Jane decided that even he would allow that a sister was not just anyone. So they made plans for the future, eventually all of them hinging on Jane convincing Mr Bingley to allow Elizabeth to live with them.

This led to Elizabeth confessing, "Jane, all I want now is to see you happily married, Amy-Jane to grow up with good prospect for her future… Oh, and to be an aunt to all ten of your children and teach them all embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill indeed."

This prompted Jane to poke and tell her, "Be serious Elizabeth. Tell me please. Honestly. You won't mind living with me and Mr Bingley?"

"Far from it! In fact I would far prefer to live with you, Jane, than anywhere else."

"What, are you sure? It will mean leaving Mrs Carter. It might even mean going to London."

"Of course, how can anything compare with living with my very own sister? Jane, there is nowhere I'd rather live than with you. No question."

Jane looked around the room, causing Elizabeth to do so also, while not sure quite why, before looking back at her. "Lizzie, not even this place?"

"Well…" Elizabeth couldn't really answer that, could she? Actually thinking about it, living here with Mr Darcy, well with a different Mr Darcy than she'd known, a bit like the Mr Darcy as he was now, was the only the thing that could be better, but that wasn't going to happen now, but what could she say to Jane and not hurt her feelings? So Elizabeth laughed it off, replying, "That's hardly likely, is it now?"

This pause in the conversation led Elizabeth to realise it was almost time for Amy-Jane's lunch, so made her excuses and rushed out.

Elizabeth used the servant's part of the house to allow her to pick up her skirts and run, if most unladylike, down the hallways and up the several flights of stairs. As she came out of the servant's entrance closest to the nursery door, Elizabeth slowed to a brisk walk - it would not do to be told off for running by her aunt. As she opened the door, the vista within caused her to pause in the doorway as her eyes opened wide with surprise…

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this was delayed, my wife ended up overseas again. Actually this chapter is only half of what I had down in the outline to write, but extra, important, things kept inserting themselves into the narrative and so I chose to finish here, with Elizabeth caught out by something in the nursery...<strong>

**So, any idea what would have caused Elizabeth to pause as she did?**

**Stephen (Fost)**

**P.S. One final teaser - Elizabeth will get a letter from Charlotte - what do you think she has to write about?  
><strong>


	55. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 5

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>The children had all stopped what they had been doing the moment Elizabeth opened the door, but once they saw it was 'only' Mrs Smith  Cousin Elizabeth / Mummy they quickly went back to what they had been doing. The eldest Gardiner, Harry and another boy, George, a servant's son whose surname Elizabeth couldn't remember at that moment, were playing with a set of toy soldiers. Amy-Jane, James and Emily Gardiner, and two of the other servant's children, Anne and Peter, all sat and listened as Mr Darcy, sitting in his shirt and vest, coat hung over the chair behind him, read to them.

He looked up as she entered, smiled at her directly, but went back to his reading, all the time continuing to rock a cradle alongside him, occasionally lifting his arm to give it a rest or a shake.

Elizabeth closed the door quietly behind her and stood there, not wanting to disturb anything, and just listened to Darcy's sonorous velvet baritone fill the room, raising in pitch and warbling as he mimicked an old woman or dropping to deep gruff tones for the woodsman. Elizabeth smiled in silent amusement seeing the children's faces expressed their amazement as sensible, decorous Darcy brayed passably like a donkey or bleated very much like a goat, as the story required. She thought his voice acting skills could be compared to the great Shakespearean players of old, his audience was transfixed, and so was she. And the entire time he kept rocking that cradle. Elizabeth was impressed with his dedication to keeping the baby quiet as well.

Towards the end of the story, which now included a rolling cheese and a cow, Georgiana came in and walked over to her brother. Elizabeth watched as their unspoken communication, even as he continued reading, which ended only when Georgiana stood behind him, with her hand resting on his shoulder. This closeness caused Elizabeth a momentary pang of jealousy, before she got the errant emotion under control, puzzled as to why she should be jealous of Georgiana, of all people.

The story finished, as they all do. This time accompanied by a chorus of children asking for more. Darcy asked them to quieten before turning to look up at his sister.

"So, Georgie. Did you get them to sleep?"

"Yes. Anne's asleep already, and Hannah is just finishing putting Lisa down."

"Ah, good."

"I've asked her, once she's done to go get lunch ready."

"Excellent." Darcy turned to look directly at her daughter, "Well, little miss, is your baby asleep?"

"No Mr Darcy. She needs TWO more stories."

"But Amy-Jane, you said just one more story before I read this one. Can you check? Your dolly's been VERY quiet."

Amy-Jane got up and looked at the occupant in the cradle. "No sorry, Ana's not sleeping." (Ana was the doll Amy-Jane most played with, evidenced by her already having a few chips and a missing finger – leading to Amy-Jane being most distraught for several days, finding out this was something 'Mummy could not fix'. Amy-Jane actually wanted to call her doll G'iana after the person who had given her the doll, but was convinced to change the name because of the confusion it would cause. The concession was that Ana was pronounced with a long A sound – Ah-nah – like the end of her namesake Georgiana, not short as in Ann. Richard's Fitzwilliam's larger, admittedly much finer doll, was too big (and too pretty to be ruined) for Amy-Jane to play with, and remained in the cradle that came with it most of the time, only allowed to be handled on special occasions. Elizabeth had reconciled herself to the gifts by now, but took a certain pleasure that Amy-Jane still slept with the rag-doll, Kitty, she had given her daughter to this day).

"Are you sure?" Darcy looked over at Elizabeth and rolled his eyes. When she went to say something to intervene, he shook his head.

"Yes, a mummy always knows." said Amy-Jane with all the conviction of a five year old.

"Ah in that case, I will have to read another story now won't I?"

"Yes! Yes!" Amy-Jane's positive exclamations were joined by the other children.

Darcy continued, '"But this has to be the very last one. I have to go after that, and you need to have luncheon. So one more story?"

Once the children agreed to this, Amy-Jane finally noticed her mother. "Mummy! Mummy! Mr Darcy's been reading us stories! And he's nearly put Ana to sleep." By now she had run over and was tugging on Elizabeth's hand. "Come look! Come look!"

Elizabeth let herself be dragged over to where Darcy now stood next to Georgiana, "Yes, so I see." Bending over the cradle, Elizabeth decided she should let Darcy off the hook. "Amy-Jane, Ana looks asleep to me. Maybe Mr Darcy can go now, or I can read the next..."

"It is alright Mrs Smith, I don't mind." Darcy interjected.

"Are you sure? I don't want them to hold you from anything important."

"No. I enjoy it. Reminds me of happier times when Georgiana was this age." Turning to his sister he continued, "Georgie that reminds me, can you find me your old book of Bible stories? That was your favourite at their age."

"I think so." Georgiana said as she then rushed off towards the bookcase. There was a pause as Darcy walked off behind her while Amy-Jane told her mother, speaking at nineteen to the dozen, about the stories she'd just heard. Although with typical childish memory she appeared to have jumbled all of them together.

Darcy returned with two chairs and offered one for Elizabeth to sit on just as Georgiana yelled "Found it!" and hurried back. After Elizabeth sat, Amy-Jane took the opportunity to climb into her mother's lap.

Darcy then assisted Georgiana to sit before he returned to his seat and picked up the book. "I shall read you all the story of Daniel and the lion's den, which was one of my sister's favourites."

Flicking through the book, it opened quickly to the desired page, where Mr Darcy started reading, "So it came to pass in the…"

Darcy continued for a few pages before Amy-Jane leaned across Georgiana and tugged on his shirt sleeve. Elizabeth felt her face flush with embarrassment as she was not fast enough to stop her daughter.

He stopped reading and turned, again shaking his head while looking at Elizabeth, as she tried to return her daughter to her knee. Darcy then looked straight at her daughter, "What is it Miss?"

"You're not getting Ana to sleep." Amy-Jane pointed at the cradle.

"Oh I am so sorry, most remiss of me." This caused Amy-Jane to giggle as Darcy reached over and started rocking the cradle again while propping his foot up to enable him to hold the book with just the one hand. "Ah where were we… But Daniel did not stop praying…"

When they got to the part with the lions, Darcy punctuated the story with actual roars, much to the delight of the listeners. This reminded Elizabeth of when she snuck away to visit the Royal Menagerie to see the animals there, which must be six years ago now, another instance of her childish rebellion, that had seemed so grown-up at the time. Looking back, she realised she'd put herself in considerable danger, the streets of London were not the safe haven the environs of Meryton were. Elizabeth particularly remembered the lions and lionesses, they were certainly impressive animals, although discovering you could pay with a stray cat or dog to feed them instead of 3 pence entrance price almost put her off, until she learned they had already been fed that day, and would not experience it first-hand. In any case Darcy's roars were a very good copy of what she remembered and wondered if he had often taken Georgiana to get that good.

Elizabeth had, like the others, become absorbed in the story, so it was only as it finished that she noticed Hannah had come back and the two older boys had stopped playing and had come over to listen. There was a collective look of disappointment across all the children's faces as they also realised Darcy was closing the book, not turning the page. But it didn't last long, as Hannah used the quiet to announce lunch was ready. This lead to a general scramble as the children headed to get a seat at the table. Amy-Jane was as quick as the others, much to Elizabeth's disappointment, not staying to say thank you, but neither did any of the others.

She noticed Darcy got up, shook and stretched his hand, and then turned towards her. "Well, Mrs Smith, I suppose your daughter's doll must be asleep."

"Not that it looks like my daughter cares to know. I shall say thank you on her behalf, but please wait while I get her back to tell you personally."

"No need. Their rapt faces were thanks enough. I know what I was like at that age."

"Thank you for being so understanding."

"Don't mention it. Your daughter reminds me so much of Georgie at that age, and look how well my sister turned out." She noticed Georgiana blush at the compliment out of the corner of her eye as she herself was looking over to see a slightly harassed Hannah deal with the table of children. She wondered if she should go and help while also wondering where Mrs Annesley and her Aunt were, but the immediate need was alieved by Georgiana going in her stead.

Elizabeth stood there, her desire to stay with Darcy fighting with the need to help with the children. In the end, a question from Darcy meant she stayed.

"Elizab… sorry, Mrs Smith, I was wondering if you had a free dance tomorrow night?"

"All of them at this stage Mr Darcy, I have not marked my dance card yet."

"Ah. Would you… Can I?… Mrs Smith, it would be my great pleasure to request the supper dance."

Elizabeth thought he sounded very hesitant, and she wondered why? As much as it would be fun to tease him, and say she had hoped to have another ask for that dance, it would not be fair, he was not, in any detectable way, the same arrogant gentleman from Ramsgate. What had changed? Elizabeth supposed that had to be a question for another day. Realising she'd not replied immediately and Darcy was looking concerned, she said, "As it would be my great pleasure to accept." Surprisingly, Elizabeth realised she genuinely felt a great deal of pleasure accepting his invitation.

In saying so, what could only be a look of gratitude crossed his face. Gratitude? Why would he need to be grateful she'd agreed? And it was just a dance. It was her that should be grateful that he'd ever consider it. But Darcy was no longer a gentleman she could predict, then again had he ever been predictable? Thinking back on it, she had always thought she knew what he'd say or do, even what he was thinking, but in every case, she'd be proven wrong. Maybe that was why he so intrigued her, why he took up far more of her thoughts than she thought was wise, particularly since the possibility of anything more than friendship had been ruined by her intemperate words. Had she been more reasonable at the time, declining his offer, rather than rejecting everything so categorically, so vehemently, based on her suppositions that were so far from the truth, she'd not be in the position of desiring the one thing she'd not ever…

Realising while she'd been wool-gathering he'd said something, her attention was jolted back to here and now, "… have to go. Please let the children know I'll come up when I can."

"Certainly Mr Darcy. I'm sure they'll appreciate any time you can give them. But I will let them know you are very busy, which much else that needs attention."

"I'm not that busy that I can't find time for children. Look, I know you need to go help Georgiana and I need to find my steward. Good day to you Mrs Smith." This was said as Darcy was putting on his coat. Elizabeth could not help but assist in ensuring it sat properly across his broad shoulders, then plucked off a few bits of lint and brushed out the creases as he stood there seemingly happy to let her do it. Elizabeth felt herself blush with her presumption, so stammered a, "Good day Mr Darcy," before hurrying over to see what disasters must have already visited the nursery table.

* * *

><p>When Elizabeth made it downstairs, the result of Mrs Annesley and her Aunt returning with her mother, Mrs Carter, shooing her away to allow them to conduct the afternoon's lessons without her 'distracting' the children, the music room contained only Rebecca and Lady Alexandra, sitting so it was obvious they were ignoring each other. When Elizabeth went and, naturally, sat beside her friend, Lady Alexandra gave a loud "humph!" and walked out. Elizabeth looked over at Rebecca with a 'what was that all about?' expression on her face.<p>

"Ah, sorry Elizabeth, we'd just had a… discussion… yes a discussion, about our common situation, and… let's just say it ended acrimoniously… about how she and I differ in attitude to others?"

"Common situation? I understand your husbands both know Mr Darcy from Cambridge, their exploits at the Debating Club comes up often, but how does this relate to the two of you?"

"Ah…" her friend went on to explain, with occasional questions from Elizabeth, that both her and Lady Alexandra's marriages had resulted in scandal. Both couples were then ostracised by the ton as a consequence. This led to Elizabeth learning more of Rebecca's history; that Rebecca's childhood hardships were the result of her mother, who she guessed due to hints she'd overheard, but didn't know, was someone's mistress, had not wanted the impediment of a child, so placed her with the orphanage. Growing up, she thought the man that visited regularly was her father. The Director had divested her of that notion, spitefully telling her when he was kicking her out at fourteen that the man was just a lawyer hired to check she was still alive to ensure another quarter payment, but they had stopped a while ago. Begging for a name, the Director had just laughed, and said unless she'd work out a way of paying off the near year of arrears, he'd give her nothing. Given she'd not seen the visitor for about that length of time, his story had some semblance of truth. So, naïve as she was, Rebecca asked how much she had to pay, she'd had a little money from doing odd jobs in the area. When he made it clear he wanted something other than money, Rebecca was happy to leave, knowing that has she stayed, his request was likely to become a demand, then worse. When Rebecca went back later, after she'd married, the Director had died and there were no records other than a quarterly line in the accounts stating 'payment from Mistress G' up to a year before she had left. One of the ladies there thought the visitor was a lawyer called Mr Stead, but when Rebecca tracked him down, he denied any involvement, so the trail went cold.

Elizabeth was shocked, she couldn't believe that the Director, a gentleman in such a responsible position could behave so badly, but Rebecca was more matter-of-fact about the whole thing, explaining she'd seen much worse in the Abbeys in the area the parish, visited almost entirely by those that called themselves gentlemen. She then carried on with her history, explaining how once she left she talked herself into a position teaching drawing and painting at a finishing school, for just food and board, while surreptitiously learning the other subjects on the sly by sitting in the classes or reading at night – most of the money she had saved ended up going on candles – until she was proficient enough to teach various academic subjects, eventually teaching everything but etiquette, deportment and dancing. While there she met Isaac, quite by chance, and one thing led to another, and they were married.

However Isaac married against the wishes of his family, Rebecca as the natural daughter of dubious origin was not suitable, by any stretch of the rules of propriety, to the nephew of a nobleman, and this meant his estrangement from them, which sadly continued even to this day. What was worse was that it was his family connections that had provided him a place in a prestigious parish in London, which his new marriage was deemed not suitable for him to continue serving. There were objections, and to cut a long story short, Isaac chose his wife over the church, leading to them to the Methodist church. It was only an unexpected bequest, from a long estranged Great Uncle, that allowed him to return to London to serve in a Methodist Parish there.

Rebecca then went on to give a little of her counterpart's history to show how in some ways they were contemporaries. Lady Alexandra's Russian father was from a Boyar family. His family's connections at the Russian court allowed him to get the prize posting of the Russian Ambassador in London. He'd served there for a number of years when he was recalled to Moscow. Intuition, or possibly a warning, led him to leave his wife and new born daughter in England when he sailed. It was as he feared, as his family was caught up, and on the losing side, of one of the court intrigues that swirled around the Tzar's court. Her mother, now a widow, although there was never confirmation of his death, found herself in a foreign land with only the clothing and jewellery she'd taken when she'd left the ambassador's residence. But London was an easy place to find a replacement for her husband, and so she did, very easily, in fact. When the first tired of her, which took some time as she was beautiful, vivacious, seductive and very charming (when she wanted to be), she took up with another, and so on. By the time Alexandra was old enough her mother was so firmly entrenched in the demimonde that the mother saw it only natural the daughter be introduced into it as well. Coached by her mother in all the seductive arts, and blessed with a natural beauty that surpassed even her parent, on debut, the daughter was feted as the most desirable courtesan of her day.

Isaac told Rebecca of how Lord Trentham became obsessed by her, constantly competing for her favours, but always losing out to those with more money and able to give more expensive gifts. But Henry was not to be deterred, and on assuming the title and beholden to no one, he was able to give her the one thing no one else could, or at least offered – marriage and from that, rank and the expectation of respectability. Sadly she only received the first. The gossip, the casual insults and snide comments were relentless, and socially they were poison. Invites dried up, people avoided them, and Lord Trentham got threatened with being black-balled for his clubs, only resolved by him agreeing not to visit openly, for the privilege of remaining a member. The demimonde also turned their backs on the couple, for by daring to think she could leave, they could no longer return. In the end Lord and Lady retreated to his estate, already badly neglected by his father, and not better run by the son from all accounts, with its limited income and from the volume of complaints by both, a very restricted social scene.

Now came to the part that Elizabeth found most interesting. She'd expected, why she was not sure, that Darcy had been one of the few people that had not followed the crowd and kept up the connection, but he hadn't, abandoning them as all the others had. Well until a little before Easter this year. Then, Mr Darcy, as Rebecca explained, had come, most apologetically, to renew the acquaintance. It was off his own bat, completely out of the blue, they had not run into each other unexpectedly, it was he that had spent some time to track them down before he had found them. Elizabeth asked, but Rebecca could not say what had caused this change of heart, most likely she didn't know. Elizabeth thought she knew the reason why he could have done so. Could he have taken her words to heart? Darcy certainly seemed to be very different now to the man she had met in Ramsgate. Could she be the reason for this?

And it seemed Darcy had made the same overtures to the Baron and Baroness. Since then, while her husband and Mr Darcy were able to carry on as if the separation had never happened, it was not proving the case with the Lord Trentham. Rebecca's husband had asked that she help by trying to befriend Lady Alexandra, but it was seemingly as difficult as Mr Darcy and Isaac was finding Lord Trentham. At this point Rebecca asked Elizabeth whether she would mind helping. Elizabeth laughed as she agreed, but with the proviso that prickly as Lady Alexandra was, the task they were taking on had Herculean proportions.

Elizabeth wondered, having Rebecca been so open about her own past, should she do the same? She definitely did not want to lie to her new friend, but still wasn't comfortable to tell everything, and it would have to be everything, Rebecca was too astute to believe the 'Mrs Smith' story. In the end, feeling guilty about it, Elizabeth changed the subject and talked of more mundane things.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth only saw Jane at dinner. It appeared her sister was in low spirits. While this would be imperceptible to most, Elizabeth was fairly certain of it. This was confirmed as Jane was distracted and took little part in the conversation over dinner. So when Jane retired early that night, Elizabeth left at the same time, and followed her to her door.<p>

"Jane. Do you want to talk?"

Jane said nothing, but gestured for Elizabeth to join her. After she helped Jane prepare for bed, and Jane climbed under the covers, Elizabeth hopped up on the other end.

Jane sighed. "Oh Lizzie, didn't know waiting could be so hard. I know he's coming back. He said so, but why is he not here? I miss him so."

Elizabeth felt guilty to learn that her sister was human after all. That her calm exterior was only that – an exterior – her heart was as troubled as the rest of us.

So to reassure her, Elizabeth said, "Jane. I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he can. But you'll have to give him some time, didn't he go a long way north?"

"He's gone to Scarborough. His great aunt is there. He said as soon as he has settled Caroline he'll come back. But how long will that take?"

"We can't know Jane. But he knows you are here waiting, it will be pulling on him to return, I am sure of it."

"I know it too, but the days drag so. I spent today wandering the grounds hoping it would pass the time better than sitting downstairs with the other ladies, but it dragged just as much. I think I'll spend time with the children tomorrow. I know Aunt Madeline said I was not to, but they can take you out of yourself."

"Don't I know it! Amy-Jane can be a bit of a handful at times, particularly when she's in a naughty mood."

"She's a good girl, Lizzie. Don't let them tell you otherwise."

"Of course she is… except when she's not. No, you've not seen her when it's been raining for a week and she's trapped inside, then she's grumpier than a bear with a sore head."

"I suppose I haven't seen it. But thankfully she'd have plenty to do here, even if she was trapped inside for a whole month."

"Very true. I could not think of anywhere better than Pemberley to spend a winter."

"And yet you could have."

"Could have? What?"

"Spent all your winters here at Pemberley."

"Don't remind me of what I want but cannot have."

"So is it the house or the owner that holds the greater attraction?"

Elizabeth felt herself blush. That question cut to the heart of the matter. "I admit the house and grounds have an attraction all of their very own, but it has been a long while since I felt the owner is the very best of men. I was wrong about him Jane, so very, very wrong."

"So you should not have refused Mr Darcy?"

"Well, no, not as he proposed it. But to be so cruel in the way I did. A gentleman rejected that categorically will never repeat his offer, particularly when the accuser was so prejudiced and so stupidly, stupidly wrong."

"You want him to ask you again? Why?"

"Yes, I… It's just…"

"Do you love him Lizzie?"

"I…Yes Jane… Yes, I think I love Dar… Mr Darcy."

"You think you do?"

"This is so new Jane. I think of him all the time, even when I know I probably shouldn't. I wonder what he thinks, especially if he thinks of me at all. It is just that I know I am happier when I am in the same room as he. When he smiles in my direction my heart skips a beat. But I am afraid this is just an infatuation. Just wanting something I can't have. Jane, how did you know it was love? You know with you and Mr Bingley?"

"What you say sounds very much like it Lizzie. Do you think he knows?"

"I'm sure he must see me glancing at him, given how often I do it. But he must think I am looking to judge him, trying to spot any immoral tendencies I was convinced he had. He'll be thinking I am doing is just what I thought of his glances in Ramsgate, looking only to judge."

"He seems to pay a lot of attention to you Lizzie, I have been paying much more attention since Mr Bingley left. Are you sure he's not considering renewing his offer? What then?"

"We are talking hypothetically aren't we?"

"If you think so, then yes. So Lizzie if he 'hypothetically' makes an offer, what then?"

"Well, it depends."

"Depends?"

"How romantic he is… No that isn't really important, I love him and I can only suppose this hypothetical offer means he loves me in return, so what he says is less important than that he says it at all. But this time there can be no conditions, he accepts both of Amy-Jane and I, as we are or… or I will refuse. Again."

"Do you think he will accept Amy-Jane, truly, or just tolerate her?"

"Actually Jane, you didn't see it. But I think Darcy would be a good father, he's more a father than a brother for Georgiana in any case. Just yesterday he spent nearly half an hour rocking a cradle with Ana in it, just because Amy-Jane asked it."

"Anne, our cousin? I suppose not many men would bother, leave that to a nursemaid."

"No Jane. Ana, Amy-Jane's doll. The one that Georgiana gave her. Then he asked Amy-Jane if her doll was asleep. When she said no, he happily carried on, even though I could see his hand was getting tired and sore. He even accepted being told off when he stopped before Amy-Jane thought he should. I almost died of embarrassment. But he took it all in his stride, even apologised. In fact I've never seen him be anything other than accommodating towards her."

"But didn't he want to send her away? I thought he didn't like her."

"I thought so at the time as well, but I've had plenty of time to think since then. No, I think he's always liked her, it was just in his limited view she was a problem he had to solve, just like what he thought of my past. He even mentioned it in that manner. It was Charlotte that made me see something of his reasoning. As much as I didn't want to admit it, it was only what we had planned all those years ago, although I doubt I could have gone through with it at the end. And he could have suggested any number of worse solutions than the one he did. The few times I remember them together, even back then, he was always good with her, it was just I did not want to allow for anything that could be in his favour, or even allow him time with her at all."

"So if he offers, and there are no conditions, what then? You'll accept?"

Elizabeth paused, she was so convinced he'd never offer again, that she'd not considered the possibility. Jane seemed determined to push the possibility. Did Jane see something she couldn't? As welcome marriage to the man she discovered Darcy was, it would mean she'd be the Mistress of Pemberley. Mistress… of… of this place! Elizabeth gulped, she'd never cope. How could she, the place was enormous.

"I don't know Jane… I just don't know. He needs someone better than me, better prepared, not some fake widow. What if my history is found out? He'd be ostracised like… like Reverend Featherstone or Lord Trentham."

"They were ostracised? Why?"

"Both involve a long story Jane, but the gist of it was both gentlemen were judged to have married imprudently, just like Darcy would be, if he ever considered me again. For that reason alone I doubt he would, he's a rational man after all."

"I would think he would have thought it through beforehand Lizzie. As you say, he's a rational man, he'll be aware of the possibility, and would be willing to accept it. Look, he's already invited us, and as you just told me, he invited the others as well. I assume he knows of their history."

"Yes, yes he does. Rebecca told me Mr Darcy invited them to try to rebuild their friendship, after also severing the connection the same time the ton did."

"There you have it Lizzie. If he is prepared to put his reputation on the line for friendship, what more would he be prepared to do for love?"

"What are you saying Jane?"

"I can't say anything for certain, but I have a feeling, and there's what Mr Bingley's hinted."

"What's he said?"

"Nothing definite Lizzie, but I think you need to be prepared. Mr Darcy might just ask again, call it an older sister's intuition. And if, as you desire it, there are no conditions this time, how will you answer?"

"But why would he ever consider me. Would he ever think I could ever manage a house like this? I doubt it. I really doubt it. Anyway, he'll not offer. If only because his rationality must recognise I am not what he needs for a helpmate."

"Don't sell yourself short Lizzie, you've a good head your shoulders. You'll cope, you always have. Anyway we're very likely to be in this situation together. I have all the same doubts about managing Mr Bingley's house as you have about here."

"I really don't know Jane. Maybe it will be up to me to save him from himself. To be totally rational, I should refuse him. I know my limitations, and more importantly, the limitations society place on a woman like me. He deserves better. Much, much better. Jane, he's such a good man, truly the best man I know. And that includes your Mr Bingley, although if he does marry you, he'll be a close second. A second refusal will be enough to focus him on someone more suitable, he could marry just about anyone, and even a duke's daughter would be without question."

Jane's reply took on a pleading tone, "Please Lizzie, I know the prospect is daunting, but I ask you, please don't talk yourself out of taking the best opportunity you'll ever have. Aunt told me recently, when it looked like Mr Bingley might be coming to the point and I expressed many of the same reservations about managing his household to her, she replied, and I quote, 'remember Jane you are marrying the man, not his money, his connections or position, either as it is now or could be in the future. Those things are all transitory, but your husband will always be there. So if you love the man for who he is, not what he is, you can marry happy in the knowledge that everything else will sort itself out.' I know our parents did not set the best of examples, but look at our Aunt and Uncle in their place. And Lizzie, in the same way, let him worry about whether you are the right person for him."

"You've made your point Jane, I'll think about it. It is not like I'll have to set up a household from scratch, Pemberley seems well served by those already here. Maybe you will have a harder time of it than I."

"There you go. So really you just have to decide if Mr Darcy is the right man for you, forget about the all rest. Promise me that Lizzie. Don't turn him down from some misguided sense of martyrdom."

Elizabeth did not reply for some time, as a promise meant a lot to her, and this was not any old promise, but one that could just decide her future.

"Please Lizzie. Please." Jane was looking decidedly worried now.

"Alright Jane. I promise."

The worry on Jane's face faded and she looked smiled. "Thank you Lizzie. You know your happiness means as much to me as my own. You deserve every possible chance."

"As do you Jane. As do you."

"Don't worry about me. Mr Bingley will be here soon. Wouldn't it be funny if he made it back for tomorrow's ball?"

"Do you think he could?"

"I don't know. How long do you think it takes to get to Scarborough and back?"

"Can't say I know. Several days at least. So it could be possible I suppose. Will you leave your dance card open just in case?"

"Should I?"

"I don't know. It's not like I've been to any. I think this is something you'll need to ask our Aunt."

"I will. I suppose it's too late tonight, I'll do it first thing tomorrow."

"I suppose that's a hint for me to head to my room and leave you in peace." Elizabeth said with an amused tone.

"It is late, and the candle is almost a stub. Good night Lizzie."

Elizabeth slid off the bed, and hugged her sister, "Good night Jane."

* * *

><p>As per usual, Elizabeth had breakfast with the children in the nursery. Afterwards, the children, having already seen the preparations for the fete started, begged to be allowed to go down and take a look. After much pleading and following many promises made to be on their best behaviour, the adults relented and took them as far as the terrace. In spite of their promises, it was not long that they were getting in the way, there were just too many of them and too few minders, even with Jane and Rebecca roped in to assist.<p>

It was Mr Darcy that eventually came to their rescue, he had himself and the other male guests set up a cricket pitch with a few of the male servants and started playing, while he exhorted the children to join in. And to the ladies surprise, all but youngest did. But that didn't matter, as that evened the ratio in the carer's favour, so they were able to corral the remaining children down by the cricket field and out of the servants' way. Mr Darcy tried to assign one adult to help the children that were playing. Both Henry and George refused, but Mr Gardiner paired up with James, Reverend Featherstone went with Anne, Lord Trentham was not able to be persuaded to take on a child, so Peter ended up, a little sulkily at first with a groom, until he discovered the groom was the best of the servants at cricket. Elizabeth smiled as Mr Darcy had picked Amy-Jane for himself.

So it was as Elizabeth was admiring Mr Darcy, now coatless and looking very dashing, and doing a bit of daydreaming of her own, as he lofted another of Isaac's bowls well past most of the fielders to score more points, or runs as they call it, for his team, that she noticed Bessie was standing next to her. She felt a little embarrassed, how long had she been keeping Bessie waiting?

"I'm so sorry Bessie, have you been waiting long?"

"No Ma'am."

"Oh, I'm glad. Cricket is a fascinating game, is it not?"

"Can't say I understand it, but theys all look ever so 'andsome in just their shirts and vests." Elizabeth looked over at Bessie, and hoped she had not been standing there with the same silly expression when Bessie turned up.

"Quite..." Elizabeth waited to see why Bessie had sought her out. After more than a minute without being any the wiser, Elizabeth had to ask, "What is it Bessie?"

"Oh yes. There's a letter for you Ma'am." Bessie reached into her apron and pulled out the letter.

"Thank you, Bessie." Looking at it, the letter was from Charlotte! "Was there anything else?"

"No ma'am." Bessie made no indication she was going to leave, and continued to stare with fascination at the gentlemen in their dishabille. Elizabeth debated with herself whether to let her stay, but decided it was best not to as Bessie appeared to focus mainly on her Darcy.

"Bessie. Can you pass on my thanks to Mrs Reynolds."

"Oh yes ma'am. Sorry ma'am." Bessie scurried off. Somehow Elizabeth felt much better she left. And now still keeping one eye on the game, she opened Charlotte's letter.

_Lucas Lodge,_

_Meryton,_

_Hertfordshire_

_My dear Elizabeth,_

_I hope this letter finds you enjoying your time in Pemberley. What you describe from your first few days there it sounds wonderful. I am so looking forward to visiting it when I move up to Lambton to live with you. Yes, you read that correctly. Father has reluctantly agreed to allow it, but he is unhappy to have done so. But I think Mother is more relieved than unhappy. Maria is already asking if she can visit, but I have had to extemporise as I cannot see realistically how Father could afford sending her all this way by post chaise, and it would be too dangerous for her to go by stage. Another happy result is that now George and I are on good terms again, I think he is as happy as I am that I will not end up living with him. I suspect now my future is settled he will be asking for Miss Harriet's hand before long. Tom does not care either way as ever since the militia has been here, all he wants is to join a regiment, preferably the Hussars. But I do not think Father could afford that so he will likely end up a subaltern in the infantry._

_Did I tell you Colonel Forster recently got married? I pity the poor gentleman. His wife is as silly and uncontrolled as your sister Lydia. As you can imagine they are now as thick as thieves. As a result of trying to please his wife the Colonel has hosted several dances, and since our neighbour did not want to be outdone, there are several dances a week. But Meryton's very own invasion looks soon to be over; the militia is headed for Brighton. This is a pity as I suppose it will mean I will go back to taking a season to wear out a set of dancing slippers. With all the extra gentlemen around they have only been lasting a couple of nights and I only sit out when I need a rest. The Colonel sent from London that gave them the order and prepared them to move was roundly cursed by all and sundry, particularly the young ladies. But he was only a messenger. I think it was unfair that he was blamed, and I told him so. He was quite philosophical about it, letting me know he's been busy delivering unwanted orders to regiments all over England._

_Oh I need to tell you that your cousin arrived. Remember I told you about Mr Collins coming here? He has been here just under a week. In a funny way your mother was right, he is not here to inspect Longbourn, as people say he visited only once, and stayed only an hour, but to find a wife. Can you believe it, coming all the way from Kent to Meryton to look for one? Apparently a wife specifically from Meryton is the wish of his patroness, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh (can you imagine, that is Mr Darcy and Richard's aunt), something he made rather too clear in a pompous speech (that went on too long) about his intentions when Mother was unfortunate to ask. I wish she had not as now she is promoting his potential as a husband, as an alternative to the spinster's life I have planned. So we dance one dance (but only one as that is all my toes can handle) every assembly. He has already managed to remove one young lady from his list. At the very first dance, Miss Nicole Long wore her hair up as she does every time (I am sure I have described it before). While I am sure Mr Collins was trying to compliment her, can you believe he told her that her hair so reminded him of a beehive that he could just see the bees buzzing around it? The silly girl was almost in hysterics, and Miss Harriet and I had to rush her off to the powder room. I took the pair of us nearly five minutes to calm her enough to return. As you can imagine, Mr Collins has not been invited to the Long's. The rest of the night I had to keep suppressing my laughter every time Miss Nicole checked her hair in the mirror or jumped at the sound of buzzing (George was at his most cruel)._

_Lizzie, I am sure you would find him a little stupid and rather inept socially. But with the right wife, I can see her managing to mould him into a gentleman she could be happy, if not proud, to call her husband. He is not an idiot, nor does he drool, although he sweats excessively and is forever wiping his brow with his handkerchief. In his favour he does have the prospect of inheriting Longbourn and what I can only imagine is a good living now. Certainly Mr Collins patroness has a costly house given, and I quote, "in one of the drawing rooms the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds!" That is not all, Mr Collins can enumerate the cost of large portions of Lady Catherine's estate of Rosins Park. I am sure there are endless hours of conversation just there._

_Can you let me know what is happening with Jane and Mr Bingley? Has he made her an offer? Is it likely? You know Jane is not very forthcoming in her letters, so although I have asked her directly in the letter I sent the same time as this one, I suspect I will learn more from you. I will not insult your intelligence by asking a list of questions just write what you can about your time there. As much as I want to tell you more about what has been happening, I have to go to get ready for a supper at the Williams, and then tomorrow Mother is taking Maria and I to St Albans to buy more lace and shoes, as our dancing slippers are all worn out and every one of our dresses have been worn at least once. Mother does not want us to be seen in the same outfits twice so the next few days will be busy unpicking and updating them all. Have some sympathy for my poor aching fingers._

_So on that note, I hope you are well and enjoying your time in Pemberley. But not too much that you cannot spend a little time to write to me._

_Yours,_

_Charlotte_

Elizabeth was extremely happy to read Sir William had consented to Charlotte moving north, was pleased that Charlotte, who enjoyed dancing, was not being overlooked at last and was amazed at the coincidence that her cousin had the living provided by Darcy's Aunt. She then laughed reading about the bizarre compliment Mr Collins gave Miss Nicole, but everything else was after was a cause for concern. That he didn't drool and wasn't an actual idiot was no recommendation for a husband, regardless of what he would inherit.

Elizabeth had been pleased to think that Charlotte had got over the disappointment of Richard's non-offer, but Mr Collins sounded a terrible choice as a replacement, even if he was a relative. She hoped Charlotte would not take the prudent option, but she remembered the discussion they'd had earlier in the year, Charlotte had used those very words - she'd consider 'any man as long as he did not drool or was an idiot'. Elizabeth thought Charlotte could do better if she could be persuaded to just wait. The Rector in Lambton was single, and was not the buffoon her cousin appeared to be. But Charlotte was the one that had to live with the choices she made, as much as Elizabeth would like to assist her to make the right one, part of friendship was accepting that your friends will decide things differently to you.

Having taken her time to finish reading the letter, (the cricket was rather distracting) Elizabeth wandered over to Jane, one eye still on the game, to see if Jane letter from Charlotte had arrived as well, and if so, did Charlotte write anything more. It didn't hurt that Jane had a better viewpoint of the cricket game from where she was.

* * *

><p>The ladies all retired straight after afternoon tea to be pampered and primped ready for the ball that evening. Elizabeth had not had such a relaxing afternoon for so long. Bessie was joined by Mary Hay, Georgiana's personal maid, just to do her hair. It had been washed, twice, rinsed, towelled until it shone, then carefully dried with curling irons that added body and fullness before being piled up in an elaborate coiffure, although Elizabeth had Mary take down the most fanciful of her design to leave something simpler, and far more classical. Completing the design was a tiara in rich yellow gold and seed pearls and more seed pearls were pinned through the rest of her hair. At the time Elizabeth thought this was one of her Aunt's pieces. Only much later did she discover the tiara, with the matching necklace and earrings were actually Darcy family items.<p>

While this her hair was being done, Bessie was in the other room, humming slightly out of tune, as was her way, to the accompaniment of rustling fabric and the swish of the clothes brush. Elizabeth, moving gingerly at first, and then with more confidence as Mary's masterpiece showed no sign of unravelling, or even moving, as she got up and went into the dressing room.

Once what was laid out registered, Elizabeth's heart nearly stopped. There in all its glory was a brand new empire line dress in the gold silk she had so admired! No! Mrs Reynolds must have found some fabric. She couldn't have taken that lovely dress apart just to get the fabric for this one. Could she?

Elizabeth looked, and knowing of the possibility, it could be, there were hints of wear or where a seam might have been unpicked, if you knew what to look for. Maybe she should refuse to wear it. Had Mrs Reynolds overstepped her authority by taking apart dresses that rightfully belonged to the next mistress of Pemberley? The dilemma of should she or should she not fought a battle in her mind, until Bessie, in her practical way, interrupted her thoughts. "It's beut'iful isn't it Ma'am. Can't wait t' see yous in it. You'll look just like a princess. Here's yours slip first."

Elizabeth stood there yielding to Bessie's physically moving her about like an automaton as Bessie first put on her undergarments, stockings, chemise, stays and then finally the dress. It fitted perfectly. It was neither too modest nor too daring. The seamstress had done a brilliant job with the cut, it was flattering to her figure, usually too full for the current fashion.

In the end the picture she made in the full length mirror clinched it. What was done was done. It was not like she could have the old dress remade. She accepted this gift from Mr Bingley, via the Darcy family, for what it was; a peace offering.

So, feeling as much like a princess as Bessie thought she looked, Elizabeth slipped her feet into the matching dancing slippers and went out to wait for her sister and the rest of her party.

* * *

><p>Thus it was a very confident Elizabeth that started out picking at the light buffet left out so the arriving guests would have enough something to nibble on while everyone assembled prior to the first dance being announced. During this time, she could not help but over hear the speculation as to why, after so long, Mr Darcy was hosting a ball at Pemberley, particularly since it was common knowledge that this was not to be Miss Darcy's debut. The consensus appeared to be Mr Darcy had finally decided to marry and that he would be singling out the lady as an indication of that, or for the more ambitious, actually announcing his engagement tonight. This, apparently decided, all the speculation was about who would be the extremely fortunate lady.<p>

Elizabeth started to become more and more depressed as several of the leading contenders were discussed, talked up by their supporters and picked apart by the large number of detractors.

All the ladies in consideration, and there were several, had good connections, considerable dowries and, obviously, none were tainted by scandal. The considered leader of the field here in Derbyshire, Miss Newbold, was all of that, but also uncommonly pretty, fair and delicate, like a smaller, petite version of Jane, with a similar gentle nature and a cheerful disposition. A close second for many was Miss Grace Chalmers, whose father was a Member of Parliament, related to a number of noble families and extremely wealthy in his own right, which a good number thought would overcome her less than stellar personal attributes, particularly for a rational gentleman like Mr Darcy. Then, with less supporters, was Miss Barton-Wright, a beautiful and lively, if still very young, lady with a vivacious nature, with always a spring in her step and a tinkling laugh, although even her supporters admitted she was not that clever. But, as they said, gentlemen do not want wives that could out think them. Then finally, Lady Penelope Putnam, a tall statuesque lady of maybe twenty five summers, with poise and an aristocratic air that was favoured by those also with rank. But most considered her to be too clever by half; particularly supporters of Miss Barton-Wright's chances.

Elizabeth, faced for the first time with what she must only consider to be her competition for Darcy's heart, being introduced to all but Lady Penelope, felt a pain deep in her chest. She realised the fullest extent of her hubris of even considering he might renew his offer to her, when all these much better suited ladies were vying for his hand, and others besides. Becoming further disheartened, as she heard more and more of the ladies more likely to be mistress here, Elizabeth slowly edged back into the back of a ballroom, finding herself in the company of her equally unhappy sister.

So it was from the very edges that Elizabeth noticed as the assembled throng became mostly silent when the band struck up a minuet and Darcy, as host, led out the highest ranked lady, Lady Alexandra, out onto the floor for the first dance. Elizabeth felt a moment of pride to think she even knew a gentleman that was as handsome as Darcy, in his deep forest green frock coat and buckskin breeches, fitting like a second skin, showing off his masculine thighs and shapely calves. Only Lord Trentham and that slightly foppish gentleman, Mr Barton-Wright even came close to him, but Darcy had a dark, brooding quality that put even them into the shadows. He even overshadowed the Baroness in her deep crimson fine silk gown, that was slight too low cut, a little too shear and the flounces allowed flashes her bejewelled slippers just a little too often.

Not asked to dance herself gave Elizabeth every opportunity to watch as Darcy glided, turned and bowed to the movements of the dance. But, she observed he did not look happy and often glanced away from his partner, as she flirted silently with flashes of her bright eyes and coy smiles. Following Darcy's gaze always led to where Lord Trentham was currently, staking the couple almost like a tiger, his face closed in a frown of disapproval and body stiff and tense with repressed anger. It was funny, but Lord Trentham looked so much like Darcy at that moment, when Darcy himself was at his most disapproving, they could almost be twins. Elizabeth realised she must have laughed out loud, as Jane asked her what was so funny, leading to her pointing this out to Jane.

All the time it was impossible to not to overhear the scraps of conversation as the matrons moved past where she and Jane stood. Occasionally this concerned whether Mr Darcy's first partner was the fortunate lady, but the speculation was generally nipped in the bud as each time those making the comment learned she was Baroness Trentham, thus married and out of contention. Elizabeth got very annoyed when one pair then joked, 'but only out of contention for marriage, not the bed chamber itself'. Elizabeth was only barely able to restrain herself for slapping both of them! Her Darcy was not like that, not at all!

When the set finished Elizabeth saw the first moments as Darcy returned the Baroness to her husband. It looked like words were spoken, but she did not see the outcome as her Uncle and Reverend Featherstone came to escort Jane and her, respectively out for the second set.

When Darcy was noticed leading Lady Bernadette Benoit out for the second dance, the scattered whispering increased enough that Elizabeth heard snatches even from the dance floor. Rebecca's husband was an excellent partner, very forgiving of her occasional lapses of concentration. She hoped he thought it that she had little practice, but it was actually because she kept getting distracted by what she was hearing. People were saying that even if there was a private understanding between Lady Bernadette and Sir Robert McNeill, Lady Bernadette should delay making any public announcement just in case Mr Darcy had played his cards close to his chest and was indeed interested in her, by so singling her out. The amount and open nature of the speculation was a revelation to Elizabeth. Here was a direct indication of where his automatic assumption of a positive answer to his proposal had come from. He could not prevent from hearing others saying that a lady, near engaged, should turn down her intended on the off chance he was interested in her. In some ways, Elizabeth realised, it showed remarkable strength of character that Darcy was not more arrogant and conceited than he had been, but was no longer.

After the set finished, Mr Gardiner and Reverend Featherstone led Jane and her to where their Aunt and Rebecca were already close by the windows. All enjoyed the slight breeze and fresh air, the ballroom already having become uncommonly hot. After depositing her with the others, Mr Gardiner head off towards the refreshment bar to procure glasses of orgeat for them all. The Reverend took only a moment to request the next dance from Rebecca, who replied in mock horror, 'Twice in three dances, Reverend? You know people will talk!' which he just laughed off.

So when Darcy, walked directly over towards them, looking intently at her, Elizabeth's courage failed. She frantically, desperately, looked around for a way out. He'd promised the supper dance, and here he was looking as if he was going to dance with her now, which would then be the first of several dances, or he'd have to stand her up later. All her growing nervousness came to a head and she felt a tightness across her chest, her head swirled and she was as close as she'd ever been to fainting. As a result, when he arrived and bowed, Elizabeth could only make a clumsy curtsy as her face flared red. When he asked Jane for the next dance, Elizabeth's first emotion was overwhelming relief, but was followed soon after by a pang of jealousy, before ending with a feeling of annoyance that she had been overlooked and would have to sit out a second dance already that overtook both.

Her distraction with all these emotions meant Elizabeth did not notice a younger gentleman, who was slightly shy, standing off to one side, waiting for her to notice him. If she'd been more aware she'd have been able to prod him into asking in time to make that set. But as it happened, Elizabeth only became aware of him much later, but her ready smile on doing so did prompt a request to dance, which Elizabeth was happy to oblige, and so she missed only the one set. But all this occurred later.

As soon as Darcy departed, with Jane on his arm, the chatter all around Elizabeth changed, which was the cause of her distraction. Mr Darcy leading out an extremely beautiful if somewhat unknown lady, apparently staying in Pemberley by his express invitation, created a veritable avalanche of comment. That she was the unmarried niece of a local gentleman made good in London was all that was known for certain. Some argued Mr Gardiner wasn't really a local, having only married Miss Madeline Carter, but for most this was just quibbling, he'd met her here on his many visits, it was good enough for them that Mr Darcy was going to marry a lady with local connections than some unknown Londonite. With little else known the conjecture and speculation about Jane would have been funny had it not been her sister they were gossiping about. In the absence of facts, Jane had a portion that ranged from nothing – considered unnecessary, her beauty was dowry enough - to twenty five thousand pounds or more, with or without her absent father's estate as well. As the dance continued, the way Mr Darcy and Miss Jane Bennet seemed to move as one was commented on, and this combined with the way Mr Darcy bought a smile to his partner lips was all most observers needed to conclude that she was the one, and that an announcement must be imminent.

There seemed to be a collective sense of disappointment when at the end of that set, Darcy bought Jane back to her party, then briefly talking to them before returning to the dance floor with another of the Pemberley visitors, this time the small, plain wife of the Reverend. Conversations had ceased or as a minimum, people had been reduced to whispering, so as ensure they heard the expected announcement, and it took some time before the volume returned to normal.

As Elizabeth passed her sister while being led out to the dance floor, Jane quipped, "Remind me to ask Mr Bingley to share similar stories about Mr Darcy."

When Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at this, Jane mouthed, "I'll tell you later." Elizabeth's mind bubbled with possibilities.

Elizabeth's partner must have thought he was doing something right to please his partner, but it was in fact Elizabeth smiling at her own speculation of just what Darcy might had shared about Jane's intended, combined with her own amusement over the wild speculation she'd overheard, now she could treat it a bit more rationally.

As Darcy continued to take a different partner out for each set, and Elizabeth herself also had a partner for each dance as well, she only heard the continued speculation about Mr Darcy and his possible future wife in the breaks between sets. However, each break an alternative narrative increasingly took hold; this ball was put on by Mr Darcy for his very good friend, a Mr Bingley, to announce his engagement to the beautiful Miss Bennet, but since a family emergency had called him away only recently it was too late to postpone the event. As this was more logical in face of Mr Darcy's atypical behaviour, and if not actual confirmed by the visitors, there had been strong hints made to support it. It would also mean there could likely be a second ball this summer at Pemberley, a prospect worth considering.

With herself occupied each set, the time flew by and it was not long before the supper dance came around. As other couples started to assemble on the dance floor, and Darcy did not appear, Elizabeth started to worry she was going to be stood up. She had already turned down several partners on the strength of Darcy's promise of yesterday morning. While this dance had become her focus for the evening, was it important at all for him? Would he even remember?

At the point Elizabeth was starting to truly think she had been stood up, as the dance floor had almost filled up, and would have to take up the offer of the last, most persistent, of the gentlemen still in attendance, Darcy appeared, striding purposely towards her. She glared to let him know she did not appreciate being left until the last minute.

"My apologies Mrs Smith. I believe this is my dance?"

"Shall I check?" replied Elizabeth cheekily.

"If you need to."

"No need. Yes, this is your dance." Turning to the other gentleman, Elizabeth apologetically said, "Thank you for staying in case my partner was unavoidably detained. But as you can see he is here."

He seemed to take this apology in good grace. It was understandable to be overlooked in place of the host. Then turning back to Darcy Elizabeth gestured towards the floor, "Shall we, sir?" as she held out her hand.

"Of course Mrs Smith." As he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, Elizabeth felt a shiver of electricity run up her spine. She felt so very alive. She was walking on air. It was obvious that everyone was looking at who Darcy was escorting onto the dance floor for the all-important supper dance. But rather than making her feel nervous and self-conscious, Darcy's natural confidence seemed to flow into her. The attention just made her feel proud and gave her a natural sense of being exactly where she knew should be. Darcy had asked her, in advance, for this specific dance, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

That confidence faltered as the couples all rearranged themselves to put Darcy and her at the front of the pattern, one that was unfamiliar for her. Elizabeth whispered frantically, "Excuse me Mr Darcy, what dance is this. I do not recognise the starting formation."

Darcy whispered back, equally quickly "Oh. Oh dear, it is a northern variation of a country dance. Um... It starts with the promenade. You turn left. No right, I'm turning left. So you turn right. After that... Just follow my lead."

With that the music started up and they set off. Elizabeth had to concentrate for the first segment, as apart from the different beginning, there were several other bits that were not the usual pattern, and was very grateful Darcy did not distract her with conversation. The reason for this lack of distraction came apparent. Darcy was out of practice with this dance as well. Elizabeth smiled as she caught him silently mouthing, "1, 2, 3, left... 1, 2, 3, centre... 1, 2, turn...'

By the time the pattern started on its second repeat, Elizabeth thought she knew the steps well enough to initiate conversation, at the points in the dance when they come close enough together to talk. "So Mr Darcy, was there a reason for your delay? Or were you just doing it to heighten... ...the drama of our entrance."

"Actually, that would have been a good reason for doing so, but... ...there was a last minute issue with the supper I had to... ...deal with. Please accept my apologies Mrs Smith."

"Of course Mr Darcy. Do they not say to err is human... ...to forgive, divine?"

"If that is your way of fishing for a compliment, then I... ...have no choice but to indulge. You look as an angel sent from heaven."

"You'll set me all a blush Mr Darcy."

"Actually I hope that you see it as just a statement of fact."

"There are many here more beautiful than I, Mr Darcy... ...Are you saying that this ball has been blessed with more angels... ...than you have the right to expect?"

"If that is the case, I don't think they are here on my... ...recommendation. You forget we have both the Lambton Rector... ...and my good friend Reverend Featherstone here. Both would... ...more likely have a direct call on angels than I, Mrs Smith."

"A good recovery Mr Darcy. But are you sure none here are for you?"

"Actually I hope at least one is. But I will not say who... ...it will cause unwarranted speculation."

"I think, sir, you are too late for that. The matrons have been... ...dissecting every one of your dances for significance."

Imparting this intelligence caused the conversation to pause. Darcy certainly seemed annoyed in learning this, there was the tell-tale tightening in his face and his movements stiffened. It was almost imperceptive, but Elizabeth was learning to observe and read what was actually there, not just what she'd imagined his reaction to be. Was it with her? Elizabeth wondered had she been too forward, being seen to deliberately fish for compliment, and suggesting they would be gossiped about. Would he see this as trying to force his hand?

She watched as he underwent a process of internal dialogue before he came to some conclusion and spoke: "I apologise for this Mrs Smith. I had hoped by dancing... ...every dance I would confound those that persist in trying to... ...second guess my motives. I did not wish you to feel you were subject... ...to the same scrutiny I have become accustomed to for all... ...these years. It takes some time to get used to. I am... ...truly sorry."

"Do not be concerned Mr Darcy. I was aware of this from... ...the very first dance and it gave me time to prepare for it... ...That the matrons could consider me in any such way... ...shows that I could be accepted here in a way that I was not in Ramsgate... ...I see it as a good sign for my move to Lambton."

"So you still intend to move up here? No one has put... ...you off with their attitude or by being unfriendly?"

"No. Not at all. Everyone has been very good to me."

"I am glad. Sometimes smaller communities can be... ...very judgemental and unaccepting of those they see as outsiders."

"Ah, but I have an advantage. Mrs Carter has been... ...writing to her friends here of the Mrs Smith she lived with in... ...Ramsgate for many years now. I've been introduced to complete... ...strangers that feel they know me quite well already. I hate to think... ...what stories she has been spreading."

"Only good ones, I am certain of that."

"And therein lies the rub. How am I, a mere mortal compete with my already glowing reputation?" Elizabeth was able to finish this sentence in one go as the set finished. Darcy tucked her hand back into the crook of his elbow and escorted her off the dance floor.

"Would it be your wish to have Miss Bennet join us at supper?"

"Why yes. Thank you for considering her."

"No problem, I am only looking out for my friend. I am sure we would have made a foursome had he been here... Where is... Ah there she is." Darcy had the natural advantage of his height. Elizabeth had also been looking for Jane as well, but had not seen her.

* * *

><p>Darcy was a very attentive dinner companion, ensuring they both got a good plate of food and some champagne before returning to fill his own plate. As they ate, Darcy regaled them both with a few stories from when he met Mr Bingley as a tutor in his final year and Bingley a new student. Elizabeth noted Darcy stayed on light topics, suitable for mixed company, with mostly self-depreciating humour, with him as the butt of any joke rather than Mr Bingley. The ice broken, Jane replied with a similarly humorous story of their own childhood, causing Elizabeth to retaliate in kind.<p>

After that the conversation was of more general subjects until all were sated. Darcy offered to collect new plates if either wanted them, but they both were quite satisfied and told him not to bother.

Elizabeth had noticed the dining room had thinned considerably, thus there were few people to overhear what she knew she had to say to Darcy, and here was the first opportunity to do so.

Elizabeth leaned in towards him slightly and, in low tones, said, "Mr Darcy. There is something I have been meaning to ask you about our accommodation. Do you have the time or should I ask your housekeeper in the morning?" Elizabeth made a point of tapping her wedding ring. Darcy looked down. His eyes widened as he noticed her gesture.

Darcy glanced quickly over his right shoulder. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head very slightly towards a pair of matrons sitting close by.

"I am sorry Mrs Smith, but my duties as a host mean I need to see to my other guests. But, never fear, I will make sure Mrs Reynolds is available for you at any time tomorrow, just ask any of the servants to take you to her." Darcy then stood, and bowed "Mrs Smith, Miss Bennet. Thank you for the pleasant dinner."

"Thank you Mr Darcy," they both replied in unison and sat there, watching as he walked off. The two matrons sat for only a moment longer before also getting up and followed the host.

Jane leant over. "What was that about?" she whispered.

"I haven't told him why I was Miss Smith in Ramsgate, but Mrs Smith here."

"Oh. Do you think it will be a problem?"

"I don't know. He has said or done nothing, well, other than raised eyebrows the very first day. But I made such a big deal about it in Ramsgate I'd hate for him to think I was being a hypocritical. He has the ability to ruin everything for me here. Anyone else can be fobbed off with not understanding the situation, and it'd be their reputation against mine. But if it was Mr Darcy..."

"Yes. So I see. Has he made any indications of his view?"

"No. I guess some of his comments could be read as favourable, but I have ceased to assume anything where Darcy is concerned, I have been too often wrong in the past. But I know if I get a chance to explain why to him, I think he will see my point of view and even support it, which could prove crucial if it ever comes down to it."

"Lizzie, you will always have my support, and I am sure of or Uncle and Aunt and Mrs Carter too."

"Yes. But, Mr Darcy endorsing me would clinch it. If he refuted it, or even came across as ambivalent, would mean the rumours would never die. You've seen now first-hand how much influence he has in the neighbourhood. Did you hear any of the fuss when he took you out on the dance floor?"

"No, but Aunt Madeline told me about it afterwards. I've had the luxury of being able to sit out a number of dances. Speaking of that, how are your feet? Mine are sore and I've danced much less than you."

"A little sore. I'll sit out the next few, but I am sure I can wear out my slippers at the same rate as Charlotte."

"You're incorrigible Lizzie. You should not be completing with Charlotte, you should just be happy for her..." At this point a footman appeared with a tray. On it was a note, which he presented to Jane. "Miss Bennet?"

"Thank you." Jane took the note. There was no name on it indicating who it was from. She turned it over to open it. "That's strange, it is addressed to you Lizzie."

"So why was it delivered to you Jane?"

"How should I know? Just open it."

"Alright. Here goes..."

Elizabeth opened it. Written in a masculine hand was the following:

_If you wish to discuss anything, I will be on the terrace during the first dance after supper._

Elizabeth took the note and tucked it in her bodice. "It was from him. Shall we go?"

"Who? Where? What?"

"Out on to the terrace. I feel the need for a breath of fresh air."

"Oh, alright."

* * *

><p>They had been out enjoying the cool night air, which was rather pleasant after the hot stuffy ball room. Even the dining room was warmer than desirable. Elizabeth was standing with her hip right resting against the terrace wall just observing Jane, who was a few yards away, staring off into the dark parkland, facing towards the driveway leading to off to Lambton. They had been like that, saying nothing to each other for about ten minutes when Elizabeth, getting bored just waiting, said, "You know Jane, searching for him won't make him come any sooner."<p>

Elizabeth just about jumped out of her skin when a warm masculine voice, very close to her ear, said. "Very true."

Elizabeth hoped he could not see her embarrassment in the poor light as she shrieked. Jane turned to see what was the problem was as Elizabeth scolded Darcy.

"Mr Darcy! Don't sneak up on people like that!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that you both provided the perfect opportunity. It won't happen again."

"Not if I can help it. Or get to you first."

"Oh, a challenge then? I do so like challenges." Darcy was grinning, broad enough so that his dimple appeared.

"Right, you're on."

Darcy just nodded in reply as he stepped around and stood between her and Jane, close by, in her line of sight, but not facing. "Mrs Smith. I would like to talk with you also, but l understand you have something to say. Do you wish to go first or shall I?"

"Can I say what I need to first Mr Darcy?"

"Certainly. I am all ears." With that he leant back against the wall.

Finally having her moment to explain, Elizabeth found it all came out in a rush. She just hoped as it did, he would take the time to understand it if it was a bit jumbled.

"Ah. It is... I just want to... I want to explain... It is the Mrs Smith. In coming to Lambton, I need a new start and being a widow is the best option for me. Well not for me, personally I don't mind the occasional person not understanding that I made the best choice at the time. I could not give her up to another family, you know that, not ever... and it was that, or marry your cousin... and you must understand I could not live in a marriage without love, I could not bear to inflict the sort of marriage my parents have on my daughter, and the man, I'll not insult the term gentleman by including him in its ranks, that my parents chose as a replacement, mostly my mother's instigation, was worse. So the choice I had was mine, it was my mistake and I was prepared to live with it, however hard that life was. And I will tell you; at times it was hard, particularly at first. But my courage rises with any attempt to intimidate, so with time I gained the acceptance of the locals in Ramsgate."

"But that acceptance was an illusion. Soon after you left I overheard something. No I need to go back a bit further. Amy-Jane does not have many friends to play with; the one she did play with the most was our next-door neighbour Billy Hughes. His father is the second mate on a ship of the line, the HMS Centaur, I think, anyway he is away most of the time and so... actually that doesn't matter, what I was getting to was that one day Charlotte, Amy-Jane and I were shopping, and some reason they went off ahead while I stayed behind... to buy vegetables, I think... but anyway, two ladies were talking about not letting their sons play with Billy, because he played with Amy-Jane. Can you believe it? I couldn't at first, but when I made a few inquiries, it came apparent that my sin was being visited on her. And it was not just those two ladies but many others. It had been made worse by the new Rector spreading lies about me, and by association her. My precious daughter was being tarred with my mistake!"

"I know that I may not be welcome everywhere, that is my cross to bear, and I accept it. Even the casual insults no longer have the power to hurt. But I cannot, and will not accept, those narrow minded people blighting Amy-Jane's life as well. So Charlotte and Mrs Carter helped me see, that a small white lie, one I would not have bothered with if it was just myself, was necessary to allow her a future. What could any mother do? I swallowed my pride, bought a ring and now I am Mrs Smith. Moving to Lambton is just part of that, as you must realise I could not suddenly be a widow in Ramsgate. Mrs Carter's connections have proved to be invaluable, particularly since she's been referring to me as Mrs Smith from the start."

"Mrs Smith. Please take what I am about to say in the spirit it is said." Hearing this Elizabeth felt a sense of dread, what was he going to say?

"Your courage is unquestionable, and is just one of the things I admire greatly about you. But I did always wonder why you chose the road you did. I understood your logic when you explained it to me back in Ramsgate, but I did worry for your own safety, and hearing this, I should have worried for Amy-Jane's safety as well. In many ways, I am pleased to introduce you as Mrs Smith, the lady I met in Ramsgate, everyone knows I spent some time there, and that should help establish your history. There is one question..."

Drat the man thought Elizabeth as he paused, her heart sank, what did he want to know?

"Mr Smith. Should I have known him?"

Phew. "No Darcy... Mr Darcy, he died even before Amy-Jane was born..." Elizabeth went on to give the 'history' she, Charlotte and others had concocted. Darcy was sharp, he even got the reason for being married on the boat and having the boat sink as it did. He listened quietly, only asking one question at the end.

"So do you have a letter from the Captain?"

Elizabeth did wonder why that was important, but was able to reply in the positive. "Yes, I have it with me." She held up her reticule.

"Ah good, it will save having to make one later. But why do you carry it with you?"

"Oh, Uncle Gardiner wrote it only a few months ago, and I've been carrying it around so it gains the authenticity of age."

"Clever, very clever."

"Now I have a question of my own Mr Darcy. Why did you bring us, that is, all of us, not just Jane and the Gardiners, to Pemberley? It was unnecessary to invite the rest of us to have Mr Bingley and Jane in the same location."

"Ah... Yes. You of all people can understand the idea of a social death. You are still alive, but for all intents and purposes society, that is to say the Ton, treats you as non-person. You receive no invites, your letters are returned unopened, people avoid you in the street, or if necessary give you a cut. Everyone did this when Tretham and Feathers married. I am ashamed that followed the rest at the time. But you taught me... yes it was you that showed me that the forgotten, the others, were as much people as anyone still considered acceptable."

"After I returned from London, I will admit to have been in very low spirits, but by chance my maternal grandmother, the Dowager Countess, she is a remarkable woman, I hope you get to meet her soon, she wishes to meet you. No don't look surprised, I have told her some of what happened, she was perceptive enough to have guessed the cause of my turmoil, in any case, and I just confirmed it. Well she showed me something that affected me so profoundly that I could no longer countenance avoiding people for things they did not do, nor could I carry on as I had been for all my life. And I imagine you will find, as I did, it was a simple passage that did it..."

That a simple passage in a book had caused this remarkable transformation? Darcy now, against Darcy then, it was a transformation indeed. Elizabeth thought of the hundred little things that she had seen that were evidence of this change, and still could not believe it. Yet there he was with honesty and conviction on his face and his very bearing. How? What?

"See you look as sceptical as I did when the Dowager Countess pointed it out to me. Anyway, it was..."

Whatever it Darcy was about to say was interrupted by Jane yelling, "He's come! Mr Bingley's come! See there. I knew he'd come! I knew it..." there was a raw edge of hysteria in her voice.

"Where? Where Jane?" Elizabeth hurried over to her sister, sensing Darcy not far behind her.

"Over there." Jane pointed as a rider came out from behind the distant row of trees that lined the drive.

"Ah yes Miss Bennet. So I see." Darcy commented. Elizabeth was peeved, she obviously was not tall enough to see what the others could, but moments later, as the road dipped, yes, clearly there was a rider approaching the house at a canter.

"I see him Jane. Oh, Jane!" Elizabeth gave her sister a hug, sharing the joy.

"I hate to say this ladies. But that is not Mr Bingley. I'd know his seat anywhere. And unless that horse is a veritable monster the rider is just too small."

"No!" Jane collapsed in on herself. "Mr Bingley!"

"Shhh dear. He'll come. He'll come won't he Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth looked up, pleading with Darcy to give the answer Jane needed to hear.

"Of course Mrs Smith. He promised me, as much as I imagine he did your sister. But Miss Bennet I do not expect him for several days yet. Scarborough is a considerable distance, and I fear the roads that far north are not in the best repair." Elizabeth feared that Jane was in no state to hear.

"Thank you Mr Darcy."

"Oh dear, it looks like a despatch rider. An express is not usually good news."

Jane obviously was listening. "It is bad news about Mr Bingley, I just know it!" and fell back into sobbing.

"Mrs Smith. I doubt it is anything to do with Mr Bingley. That looks like a military uniform, thus more likely from my Uncle."

"Not your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"I fear so. It is the most likely explanation. He left for the peninsula about a month after Easter. Please do what you can to reassure and calm your sister. I will have to go. I will let you both know for sure as soon as I know. Sorry to run out on you."

"No, you go Mr Darcy. We'll be alright. Just give her time."

"Of course. Ah, before I go, there is a bible beside your bed. Read First Corinthians, Chapter 13. But you must use that specific version. "

"Is that important?"

"Yes. In fact compare the same passage to the usual King James version. It will explain what caused my change, if I have to go immediately tonight. Ah, the rider is getting closer to the house. I have to go. Promise you'll read it."

"I promise. Go Mr Darcy."

"Thank you. Until... well, sometime."

"Good bye Mr Darcy."

* * *

><p><strong><strong>I managed to get a bit of writing done finally as all of New Zealand is catching the very edge of Cyclone Evan, thankfully only bringing rain and cooler weather. While our new fence is not getting painted, sitting in front of the computer is possible. Thankfully Evan is just about blown out, leaving only the rain clouds to trouble our new year, but please spare a thought over this holiday period for all those people in the various Pacific Islands - Samoa, Fiji and others - that had hurricane force winds and rain do such enormous damage to their homes and livelihoods and lead to the loss of a number of lives. <strong>**

**on a more upbeat note, hopefully this next 'surprise' ending will have you all guessing and more puzzled than ending of the last chapter, that pretty much everyone guessed correctly. As this chapter was entirely from Elizabeth's point of view, my plan is to give a bit of balance and have much (if not all) of the next chapter from your wonderful hero - Darcy's - point of view. Events are gaining pace - you should all be planning for wedding bells before long. **

**But whose wedding will be first? **

**Stephen (Fost)**


	56. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 6

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 6**

* * *

><p>'Damn and blast!' Darcy swore under his breath as he strode off as fast as was dignified. Express riders never bought good news, and always turned up at the worst possible times. But this was taking the cake. He'd just started talking, really talking with Elizabeth. Darcy realised he would have had to curtail their time together soon enough, he could only stay away from his duties as host for only so long without it being noticed, but he could have at least arranged to meet again, maybe tomorrow morning.<p>

Frustrated as he was about the interruption, Darcy was also worrying about how bad the news about his cousin could be as he crossed the terrace and slipped back into the antechamber where he had taken Isaac to cover for his time with Elizabeth, signalling a footman to attend him at once.

"The matter concluded satisfactorily then Darcy?" enquired Isaac.

"No, blast it!" Darcy noticed Isaac's eyes widened at his words as he turned to tell the footman to bring Lord Tretham here with all speed, before returning his attention to his friend.

"It is just that as we were talking, an express rider rode up."

"Oh dear. Any idea?"

"No. But he looked to be in a military uniform, so it could only…"

"Your cousin?"

"Yes. As you know he went back to the Peninsula after Easter with new the recruits."

"Ah. There's many a family whose sons have made the ultimate sacrifice for us to live free here in God's own land. I can but hope that you family is not doing the same."

"The silly thing is, he survived several years with nary a scratch over there, only to nearly die from a stupid… mistake in an inn here in England. It seems his charmed life has caught up with him. Yet I hope somehow it hasn't. Blast it! … Where is Trentham?"

"He'll be here soon enough Darcy. Remember whatever has happened is part of God's great plan. Who are we to judge the mind of the infinite? Our purpose is to live with the cards that are dealt us. Wealth and connections give no more protection than gossamer from the winds of fate. I will be praying for …" Isaac stopped what he was saying as the door opened behind them.

"What is it Darcy?" said Lord Trentham as he arrived.

Darcy waived the footman away. "Trentham, I need you to take over as host for me, maybe just for a short time, maybe for the rest of the evening and beyond."

"What? Why?"

"Sorry. An express rider has just ridden up. Military. I've yet to find out what it is but it can only be my cousin."

"Ah, Richard. What is he now? Major?"

"Colonel."

"If he's survived I'll have to congratulate him. My, doesn't time fly. He was only a Captain only a few years ago. But I suppose promotions come easier in war time with all the… Oh, look I am sorry, so what is it you want me to do?"

Darcy winced with Trentham's insensitivity, but it was what he was coming to expect. "Just act as host, Trentham. You know what to do, even if you might be a bit rusty…"

"Steady on Darcy, I've not lost my touch at all. No problem, I'll mingle to make your excuses."

"Thank you Trentham. I'll let you know more as soon as I know myself. Best I go. The rider should have managed to make the house by now."

"Sure. If you have to leave, just send a note. I'll look after the rest. Feathers' here will help, won't you?"

"Certainly Lord Trentham. Go Darcy, We'll hold the fort here.'

Darcy was already heading for the door, when a stray thought made him stop. Turning he grabbed Henry's attention with a fierce gaze. "Trentham, no waltzes! None! No matter what your wife says. Most of the locals will not stand for it."

Darcy retained eye contact until Trentham nodded. Then, satisfied his point was made, Darcy headed for his office where the express would be waiting.

* * *

><p>Darcy managed to make his office before the express was delivered. He was just pouring himself a brandy when the door opened. Darcy turned, expecting to see a footman hurrying over with a letter on a tray, but the footman was holding the door open as the rider himself strode in.<p>

"Sergeant O'Connor!" Darcy exclaimed.

"Yes, Mr Darcy, sir." The sergeant did not look that troubled. Darcy hoped that was a good sign.

"What are you…

"Doing here, sir? The Colonel is at Matlock."

"He is? What happened? Is he badly hurt?"

"Oh no. He's only b'en riding too much ov'r the last few days. It you can pardon the impudence, I had to feign my 'orse were lame to get 'im to rest up at Matlock, other'twise he'd be 'ere with me."

"So he's not badly hurt, or worse. And my Uncle is fine?"

"Well yes an' no Mr Darcy sir. Tha's why the Colonel has come north. He needs to talk to you and asks if you can come to Matlock. There's a family issue he needs your help with. But no one is dead, hurt or ill."

The relief Darcy felt at this news was palpable.

"Sergeant. Is it very urgent? Do you know if it can it wait?"

"He said to tell you that it can wait, it doesn't need to be dealt with tonight. I have a letter here for you." Sergeant O'Connor started rummaging around inside his saddlebag.

"Sergeant, wait there a moment. Actually, get a footman to bring you anything you need, food, drink, whatever." Darcy stood and tugged on the bell pull. While the footman was dealing with O'Connor's needs he wrote a short note.

_The Colonel is in England. I do not know why, but he is unhurt. _

Then he thought for a moment and added:

_I should know more tomorrow. Meet outside where we meet yesterday. Early._

Darcy folded the note, wrote "Mrs Smith' over the fold, tucked it into pocket and left his office. It was not long before he reached the anteroom again.

Darcy placed the note on a tray, name down then handed the tray to a footman with the instructions, "Please give this to Miss Bennet and then ask Lord… No ask Lord Trentham if he could come here first, then deliver the note to Miss Bennet."

Darcy paced for a minute or so before deciding it would look undignified, so stood by the window staring out into the semi-dark, the full moon washing out all the colour, everything shades of silver and blue, with deep, dark shadows in between.

"What is the news Darcy? How is he?"

It was heartening to hear real concern in Henry's voice. Darcy let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Trentham, my cousin is alright. There seems to be a family problem, but nothing too urgent. I've got to go back to give the messenger some instructions, but I'll back up. I will likely miss one more dance. How it is out there."

"Fine. People have asked after you, but Feathers and I have made your excuses. Just for your information, I haven't told Lady Alexandra I have control over the music, although I might get some stick once, well if, she finds out. She's been asking about waltzing to 'liven the fuddy-duddies up' since she and you caused such a stir the first dance."

"Thank you Trentham. Society here is not London. The waltz is still seen as beyond the pale by those that don't frequent Town on a regular basis."

"You'll owe me one after this if it gets to her Ladyship. Actually, be prepared for her letting you know her views on the matter on the morrow, once she finds out even the last dance is not a waltz."

"I will cope when it happens. I have to dance the last dance with someone, you've heard them, can you imagine the furore if I waltzed with any lady?"

"I'll make that point to my Lady afterwards when she brings it up, and I know she will. But you know what she was like when she thought she was being thwarted back then, she's not changed in the meantime."

"I appreciate what you can do, but don't take anything on your own shoulders, tell her I expressly forbade it. Anyway, I suspect the musicians are not capable of playing a passable waltz tune."

"I doubt that will help, but I'll try to butter her up before she gets to you."

"Thanks Trentham. I best go."

"See you soon."

With that Darcy left out one door as Trentham left via the other.

Darcy returned quickly to his office to find O'Connor standing there with a glass of some amber liquid in one hand. As soon as he saw Darcy he put it down, then picked up and handed Darcy a letter. "Here you are Mr Darcy, sir."

"Thank you Sergeant. Take a seat while I read this."

Darcy walked over to his desk and spent the time to light his whale oil Argand Lamp, which gave a bright yellow light, good enough to read Richard's scrawl.

_Darcy, I hope this note finds you in good health. I am well, if my leg is giving me a little grief. I think I have pushed it too much these last few days. I hope you will understand that I must see you regarding my brother's most recent actions. I will not write it down, but explain later. But I can assure you his egregious actions has very serious implications that could affect our whole family. Are Anna and her daughter still at Pemberley? The maid with his by-blow. Hope to see you tomorrow, but only if you don't have commitments. Yours, Richard._

Well Richard's note didn't add anything. Darcy still knew next to nothing, this in reality only confirmed that Sumerville was the cause of the problem, although with no one deceased, injured or ill, it really only left him or Lady Sophie. No, Darcy realised any of Uncle Henry's daughters, especially Alice or his brother Justin could have been the cause of a family crisis as well. But Sumerville was always the leading contender for anything that Darcy needed to be involved with.

Darcy sat for a while thinking formulate a reply, before getting out a sheet of paper. After writing a few lines, Darcy stood, screwed up what he'd written and threw it into the fire.

"Sergeant, are you expected back tonight?"

"No Mr Darcy, sir. The Colonel said to accompany you if you ride tomorrow."

"Ah…" Darcy sat. There was no way he could avoid being here to host the Pemberley Fete tomorrow and he would not, in good conscience, travel on Sunday if he could help it. But there was no reason he had to go to Richard, was there? Decision made, Darcy rang the bell pull and waited.

When a footman appeared Darcy asked him, "Brendon, can you get Falworth and Wilkins to come here please. Tell them they are to stop the preparations they have done so far. There has been a change of plan. Oh and Groser too."

The footman nodded and ducked out. Darcy turn to face the rooms only other occupant.

"Right. O'Connor?"

"Yes Mr Darcy, sir?"

"There is no reason my cousin could not make the trip here, in a coach of course, rather than I go to Matlock?"

"No, sir. None that I know of, Mr Darcy, sir."

"Good, good. Here's the thing, you'll stay here, and at first light Wilkins will take you to collect my cousin and return here. Tell Richard, I've guests, so will not be able to make Matlock until Monday at the very earliest."

"Certainly Mr Darcy, sir."

"I'll write you a… No, just tell him, if we need to talk, it would be best if he comes here. Oh, let him know that Miss Bennet, her sister and the Gardiners are here, that should help convince him to make the trip. Oh and Featherstone and his wife. Got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Go ask for Mrs Reynolds. She'll find you a room for the night. Ah... and if you are hungry, she can arrange something for you as well. Heaven knows there must be any amount of food left over from the supper for you to have."

"Oh thank you sir. Is there anything else? Do you want me to wait for you in the morning before I go?"

"No need. I can't see anything to add. If I do, then I'll leave a note for you to take. See Groser, my butler, to check before you go."

"Certainly Mr Darcy, sir. I'll go now, shall I?' O'Connor stood up.

"Yes. God's speed Sergeant."

O'Connor started to salute, but caught himself in time, so just said, "Yes, sir, Mr Darcy, sir," before leaving, closing the door behind him.

This left Darcy with time to ponder on what disaster his elder cousin had inflicted on the family this time, most likely to do with fathering another child, not needing the hint regarding Hannah to draw that conclusion. But why would Hannah be helpful? The usual drill (my God there was an established process for dealing with his illegitimate offspring) was just to find the girl, usually rescue her from whatever straights she found herself in, and assist her into a position or find a husband somewhere. Adding a reasonable dowry helped. So what was different this time? That Sumerville was now married? Darcy could not see that changing anything, his wife obviously entered that marriage with her eyes wide open, given the settlement Darcy knew of. And this current situation, Richard reported, had implications for the family as a whole? Darcy mind boggled at what depravity his cousin had to have done to cause that. But his thoughts were interrupted by Groser letting in Falworth and Wilkins and then entering himself.

The next few minutes were spent making changes to the arrangements to get the guest home while leaving Wilkins, the Darcy coach and four horses free so they would be fresh for tomorrow's trip. Wilkins protested that he could do both the trips tonight and still leave first thing in the morning, but Darcy would not countenance it. Some guests would just have to stay tonight, which was why Groser was here to make those arrangements. But before long it was all sorted and Darcy was free to return to his guests.

But the news he'd just learnt soured Darcy's enjoyment of the rest of the evening. Even the thought of tweaking of the gossiper's noses by picking three wildly unsuitable choices for the last few dances had paled. His mood was such that the imp in Darcy started to consider, possibly because his partner for the penultimate dance bent his ear in an incessant stream of mind numbingly trivial gossip, to just go 'damn the world!' and walk over to Elizabeth, grab her by the hand and drag her, if necessary, out into the centre of the ballroom, declaring, for all assembled, that Mr Darcy has decided the best of woman as his intended. Darcy smiled to himself at the thought of the shock, the sudden silence, the wide eyed stares, that this would cause.

As the final pattern of the set started, Darcy succumbed to reality. His rational side knew he had spent many months building Elizabeth's level of disapprobation to the point where she felt it necessary to express it so forcibly that December morning, it would not be the matter of a week in his company to make her wish to see him declare himself so publicly. No, it will take a concerted effort, over the next few weeks before he could hope to have demonstrated his change of heart to overcome her previous objections. Then maybe, just maybe he could think of renewing his offer at the end of her stay, but more likely after she came up to Lambton. Darcy had waited so long, he resented this additional time, but it was far better to wait than risk rejection by jumping too early.

So while imagining he was dancing with Elizabeth, Darcy trod the boards with another lady so unlikely to be a candidate that it appeared to silence the gossip. He had managed to avoid standing up with any of the ladies pursuing him, including those he knew were considered the leading contenders. He found it amusing to think everyone here had seen his future wife… his intended future wife… but they didn't even know it.

As the final cords were played, Darcy hoped that by holding a ball and a fete tomorrow he'd done enough this summer to not have to do any of it again. Being host, having to be polite and dance every dance, was tedious in the extreme. His feet hurt, any ability to tolerate the more idiotic of his neighbours was more or less finished, he had no more small talk left and it even hurt to smile. But Darcy forced a smile and behaved as the perfect host, saying farewell all the guests that were leaving, ensuring those that were now staying were well cared for. But the tension must have shown somehow, as he got concerned looks from both Feathers and his wife, Elizabeth as well, and to his surprise, Miss Bennet also.

Darcy stayed long enough to ensure the start of the clean-up was being conducted to his satisfaction before heading upstairs himself. He had got halfway to his room before he realised there was something Richard needed to know, so returned to his office to write it.

_Richard,_

_As I have guests, I cannot come to you, thus the request for you come here. You will be please to know Mrs Elizabeth Smith is here along with Amy-Jane. I am sure she will be happy to see you also. But I must warn you, she has decided that although she is a widow, as you know, since her husband is long dead - I still find it so tragic that her poor naval officer died so young never seeing his daughter - she is not wearing black, and seldom talks of it. _

_Darcy._

Reading it several times, Darcy was satisfied he'd given Richard enough to prevent him inadvertently ruining Elizabeth's desire for a new life here, without causing any problem for her if his letter was read by those it was not intended for or a servant choosing to be nosy. After sealing it, Darcy rang for a footman to take it to Groser.

* * *

><p>Darcy woke even earlier than was usual for him, and so tossing and turning he could not return to the land of nod. So as the sun was just making its presence felt, Darcy, reluctantly, arose and prepared for another long day.<p>

After going downstairs to ensure the clean-up was being completed and today's preparations were in order, Darcy was early enough to see Wilkins and O'Connor carry out their last minute preparations and then depart. While standing at his office window and watching them, Darcy suddenly realised that he'd said early to Elizabeth last night, but he didn't know how she would interpret that.

Immediately, with long-legged strides, Darcy bounded up stairs and sped down hallways, offering only the most perfunctory of greetings as he passed the servants, already busy with the duties necessary in a house full of guests. Arriving on the upper floor, Darcy slowed to a more deliberate and quieter tread as he approached the Nursery.

Darcy sighed in relief, Elizabeth had not yet arrived.

Darcy stood in the hall for a while, before starting to pace. Thinking that would seem undignified, Darcy stopped and went back to just standing. After fiddling with his gloves for the umpteenth time, Darcy realised he was fidgeting. Him, fidgeting! Taking a deep breath, Darcy willed himself to hold still. He did not want to appear like a nervous school boy, although that was exactly how he felt. But try as he might, he tugged a sleeve before realising he was doing it and stopped himself. Then, only moments later, he fiddled with his cravat, again before he even realised he was doing it. Darcy wondered whether he should sit to wait instead. But would that then appear to suggest she was, somehow, late? Darcy was not used to not knowing what to do, or at least what he should do.

In the end Darcy walked down to the railing at head of the stairs and stood there listening while looking down. At each sound Darcy wondered was that Elizabeth coming? But each time it was not anyone coming up to this floor. This, Darcy discovered, was more frustrating than standing by the door waiting. Should he go down as see the preparations for the fete? What if she turned up while he was gone? Was that rude? And once Elizabeth arrived, then what? Having never made anything that could be construed as an assignation with a lady before, Darcy was uncertain of the rules. He'd never taken part in that extracurricular activity the other undergraduates considered part and parcel of university life, even when he was ribbed mercilessly about it. At the time Darcy prided himself that he would always do what was right over what was popular. But as he learnt, when it really mattered, he would go along with everyone else, if what they were doing wasn't actually immoral. A lesson that took far too long to learn, painful in the learning, but one he needed to be taught.

So, totally out of his depth, Darcy wondered, once she arrived would being furtive be more appropriate to avoid people seeing them together, or is it better to carry on normally, as there was nothing untoward going on? Did he need to lie about it? And if so, what should he say? He did wonder how those having affairs and what-not managed to keep everything straight in their mind and not go mad from all this indecision and duplicity. Darcy let out a sardonic laugh, at least when (if) he married Elizabeth, she'd have no concern about him being unfaithful, Darcy doubted he would be capable of it.

But that still left what to do once she got here. It was not like they could stand outside the nursery door and talk now, could they? He'd have to take her somewhere, but where? Darcy pondered this for some time. The usual choices of the Pemberley grounds were out; the public areas should already be busy with servants preparing for today and the more private areas were out for obvious reasons. So it had to be somewhere in the house, but a public space, where they could be observed but not overheard. Darcy walked to the end of the corridor to stare out the window. It was something about looking out over wide open spaces that Darcy found he did his best thinking.

So it was the public spaces, and what were they; there were any number of sitting rooms, but they were all too private or too small so any chaperone would be in a good position to hear everything. The music room, no, an odd choice since he didn't play, and doubt she did either, although he could not be certain of that, Elizabeth had a wealth of hidden talent, but no, not the music room, maybe the library? A good choice but not conducive to talking, too many years of being hushed at Cambridge made library's a place to be quiet, noise, even talking, seemed sacrilegious. The ballroom? Another odd choice, given it would be partly stripped of the decorations and be looking rather threadbare, while still possibly swarming with servants still cleaning up. It was not like they could hold a conversation in the foyer now was there? Although the thought did tickle Darcy's dry sense of humour. Darcy walked through an imaginary Pemberley in his mind, through one floor then another. Could Elizabeth be interested in the kitchens and associated areas? He was certainly thinking about them now, hoping she was not going to be too much longer, he was starting to feel hungry. But that wouldn't work either, the breakfast rooms would be busier than normal, and his neighbours would also keep country hours, so some may already be up and about, as he was.

Damn! He should have thought of grabbing something, if not to sate his hunger, at least to take the edge off it, but it was too late to leave. Elizabeth must be coming soon, mustn't she? Guiding his thoughts away from food and food related rooms, Darcy continued to roam through the construct in his mind, when the answer became obvious. The picture gallery. He'd be able to show off the different portraits if conversation lagged, and it was public enough, servants passed through it all the time, but never lingered to overhear anything. Yes, it was perfect.

Decision made, Darcy continued to stare out of the round arched window, becoming aware he could see a good deal of the preparations from this vantage point. He watched as the staff set up the first of several great marquee tents, carried out the tables and chairs and other assorted items and disappeared inside it. More directly in front, Darcy then noticed several of the undergardeners starting to roll out the cricket pitch, an innovation he'd seen done at the MCC ground at Lords, and something he talked his father into introducing, along with the MCC rules of the game, to even up the contest between bat and ball for the annual Pemberley versus Tenants cricket match. As a result the tenant's lower skill level was compensated by the distance their lusty blows could hit the ball on the times they connected. At times hitting so far that two fielders in relay were needed to return the ball to the wicket. Looking out over the area, he thought maybe he'd post more of his team, Pemberley of course, as fielders on the side away from the house, as the best of their batsmen could probably have the ball into that far drainage ditch, adding a good number of runs while his team frantically tried to find it in the long vegetation there.

Darcy thought the contest was evenly matched, although when he was home at the right period, he liked to think his contribution to the Pemberley score, both with bat and ball, contributed to the staff being on the winning side more often than not recently, and since he'd been in Ramsgate last year, it was the reason they'd lost for the first time for four years. So he wondered if allowing his guests to join in as part of the Pemberley team was fair. Feathers was no great shake, in any of the disciplines, batting or bowling, but was fast in the outfield and had a good throw, often catching a batsman out of his ground. On the other hand, while Trentham was not a skilled batsman, his style could only be described as 'agricultural', bit like the tenant's really. But it was in bowling that the Baron was simply outstanding. He had a way of twisting his hand in some way just as he released the ball that caused it spin in the air and then to bounce wrong, so the batsmen would regularly miss-hit and spoon a catch to the waiting fielders. But as guests regularly featured, the precedence was there, so it was not as if he was getting an unexpected advantage, now was it.

Looking at his watch, Darcy realised he'd been here nearly an hour. Had he'd been a little too clever with his note? No, Elizabeth would work it out, it was not hard. Then maybe he non-appearance was telling him a different message. Was he pushing too hard? Did she think he was arranging an actual assignation, thinking that he'd assume her new 'widow' status gave him the licence to act as she believed he did? But she did not appear to treat him as if he was the immoral gentleman she had assumed him to be at first. Didn't Richard say he'd cleared up everything? Maybe she now think that he and Richard had conspired to fool her, to cover what she would now think is his true nature. As much as he tried, and as long as Elizabeth continued to fail to appear, he could not stop himself succumbing to these and other pessimistic thoughts.

So Darcy jumped out of his skin when a warm feminine voice said "Mr Darcy?" from behind him.

Darcy turned, just to make sure before he exclaimed, "Elizabeth!"

"As I live and breathe. Have you any more word on your cousin?"

He did, but would it be right to burden her with knowledge of Amy-Jane's further iniquities? No, but Darcy smile as he realised he could let her know something after all. "Yes, he is at Matlock. Did I tell you that? Doesn't matter. Anyway Matlock is only a half a day trip from here, so I've sent a coach to pick him up."

"That's great. It will be wonderful to see him again... Just one question, why did you have to send the coach? Wouldn't he ride here?"

"Ah, he rode north, probably thinking he was fit enough to make the entire distance, but O'Connor saw his leg was troubling him so contrived to have his own horse appear lame to get him to stop. I suppose it was a white lie to say he is unhurt, as I imagine the pain must be bad for him to show signs of it, well, enough to have the Sergeant to act as he did. But I did it so you would not worry on his behalf, I am sure he'll be right as rain in a day or two."

"You are forgiven, Darcy, if that is even necessary, as you are right, as, to the greater extent, he is unhurt. Well, other than his pride, which, knowing him, will be the sorest part right now."

Her insightful comment made him chuckle, she knew his cousin far better than most. It did make Darcy wonder how well she knew him, as well.

"That is very true. Richard was always pushing the limits of what was wise with his recovery. I hope he will provide an accounting of everything he's been up to since he left for Spain after Easter. I am more than interested to know why he is back in England. I learnt nothing from the Sergeant."

"Ah. Yes, I suppose there will be an interesting reason, mustn't there?"

And with her reply, Darcy's mind went blank. What should he say next? What could he say? Did her answer mean she wanted the conversation to end? Should he change the subject or talk a bit more about Richard? Could there be anything he could say about the Matlock family problem that would not stir up bad memories for her?

Realising he'd not said anything for some time, Darcy focussed his attention on Elizabeth again, expecting to see her look bored or annoyed, but she was not, she was still attentive to him, looking as if letting him have a moment, as it were, was a perfectly acceptable to her.

"Um... Ah... that was not all I asked to meet you to talk about. Would it be possible to continue where we left off last night?

"Certainly Mr Darcy." Elizabeth looked around, mostly back at the nursery door, wearing a puzzled expression. Darcy wondered why. Then realised, she also did not want to talk about these personal things in front of the nursery. Darcy smiled, ah, now to invoke his plan...

"Mrs Smith, would you care to take a walk through the Pemberley picture gallery? There are many fine works to look at while we talk." Darcy was proud at the natural way that came out.

"Actually, I've already seen it..." Darcy felt as if his heart slumped to the pit of his stomach.

"...But I am only too happy to have you take me through it again." Darcy suddenly noticed her cheeky grin. The minx had been bamming him.

"Why certainly Mrs Smith." Darcy held out his arm, prompting Elizabeth to slip hers in it. They walked together, in companionable silence, along the hall carpet and descended the stairs the same way. It was only once they started down the picture gallery, Darcy pointing out favourite paintings of his, or anecdotes about this relative or another, that the silence was broken. Darcy would have liked to talk of more important things but there had been a regular stream of footmen using this as a shortcut to the guest rooms, lugging large water urns in each hand. It was annoying, but made sense. It would be far more difficult to carry those urns through the narrow servants hallways, however inconvenient it was to him just now. But Darcy was sure an opportunity will present itself before long. Already footmen were returning with empties, sauntering along, swinging their urns in a cavalier fashion, well until they saw their master was still in the gallery and from then walked in a more sober attitude.

Darcy made a point of greeting each with their name, something Richard had advised. Darcy had always known a good deal about each of his servants, it was part of maintaining a well-ordered household, but had not realised the importance of letting them know he did not, how did his cousin put it 'treat them like a mobile piece of furniture, as most do'. It was something Darcy had never considered up to that point, but it made very good sense, once told. It was just treating people as he'd wish to be treated, and his experience just prior to that discussion made him aware how often he had not in the past. He became aware then that he'd grown callus since his father died, although the rot had set in earlier than that, being raised from a child to see the servants, the poor and even the less well-off tenants as tools to be used, rather than people in their own right. Darcy wasn't sure if it had made any significant difference, but he persisted as it was doing the right thing for the right reasons.

After greeting yet another footman, "Good day Seamus", and receiving the reply "Top 'o da morning to ya, Mr Darcy", he noticed Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look.

"What is it Mrs Smith?"

"You appear to know all their names."

"More than just appear Mrs Smith. I know all their names, which families they are from, whether they are new in service or have been here for some time and many others things besides."

"Alright, let's check shall we?"

"No problem, there should be a few footmen still to return. I've not seen Tom, Frank or Donal yet, they were still heading up with water when we were first here."

"No that would be too easy…" Elizabeth tugged him over to the window. "You encounter the house servants all the time, I was thinking of…" and she peered out over the preparations, "…him!" pointing to one of the young under-gardeners.

Darcy leant close to Elizabeth, enjoying the fresh sent of lavender, although there was a hint of something a little more floral as well, but he couldn't name it, while looking over towards where she was indicating.

Of all the lucky choices, she chose one of a set of twins. It was either Samuel or Joshua Weber, but which? Both were apprenticed to Mr Reynolds, only a year or so into their time. Was it Joshua that tied his hair back like that? Or was it Samuel? No he was pretty sure it was Joshua, but the more he tried to remember, his certainty faded. He remembered the day their father, David, approached him, near begging for Darcy to give sons work, the Weber's were 'blessed' with too many boys, and feared, without work in the area, his twin sons, the last two of six, would be likely to take the King's Shilling instead. Darcy understood the man's fear, he worried about Richard and he was an officer, how much worse would it be for those in the ranks? But this memory wouldn't help. He tried to recall the last time the pair of them had been bought into his office. Mr Reynolds found them splashing in the pond, rather than trimming the willows as they'd been asked. Darcy chastised them as required, but was more lenient than Mr Reynolds had wished (that was obvious from the expression on his Head Gardener's face) but it was a scorching hot day, and he was a young lad himself only recently, and understood the temptation the pond would be.

He must have spent too long in reminiscing as Elizabeth tugged on his arm to get his attention before saying, "I have you stumped, haven't I?"

"Yes, but not in the way you think. It is either Samuel or Joshua Weber, but as their father has difficulty telling his twin sons apart at two yards, I think I can be excused at one hundred."

"You never cease to amaze me Mr Darcy."

"Why?"

"Any other gentleman would have just said one of the two names, know even if I met either of them later I'd not be able to tell them apart either. But you are too honest for your own good, admitting failure when hundreds would not."

"Oh. I'd never have thought of it."

"I know that now, but it was not always the case. I've learnt a lot since then."

"As have I. Did you read the bible besides your bed?"

"Yes, yes I did. I can't remember reading that passage before although it seems familiar somehow."

"It should be, although you are likely to remember it as the sermon about charity."

"Charity?"

"Look, it would be easier if I show you. Do you mind going and having a look?"

As he said this Elizabeth looked very concerned and resisted his movement towards the library, while still holding his elbow so he'd have to pull her to move. Darcy could not understand why, but not wanting to drag her, stopped. "I have both a King James Bible in the Library and my personal copy of the John Wesley New Testament in my office."

On hearing this, Elizabeth gave a nervous laugh and suddenly all her resistance ended.

"Eliz… Mr Smith. Once we get to the Library can you find the passage in the King James, and I'll go fetch the New Testament."

"Certainly Mr Darcy, shall we?" Now she seemed keen, actually leading the way. Having to follow was not something he'd been that used to, but enjoyed the novelty of it.

Once in the Library, Darcy pointed out the cabinet where the bibles were kept, while heading towards his office. After collecting his copy of the John Wesley New Testament, something he'd taken to bringing with him where ever he went, as John Wesley had a way with words, instilling poetry into many passages, while using language that gave greater clarity and depth to the words.

By the time he returned, Elizabeth was seated at the central table and had opened her bible at the right place. Darcy put his much smaller tome down next to hers. It almost fell open at the right place, needing only to flick a few pages to the right spot, before Darcy also sat.

"Maybe Mrs Smith, you would like to read from the King James?"

"Certainly. Here goes… '_Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become …" _

_"… now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.' _That is quite different from what I read last night, it does not seem to even be the same verses._"_

"Yes, that is very true. Now from the version I have used for many months now. '_"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become …" _

_"… now abide these three, faith, hope, love; but the greatest of these is love."_ The poorer translation of the King James is blatantly obvious once you learn of it, but see how using the right word makes all the difference?"

"Yes, I can see it! Here, let me read it for myself." Darcy leant back to allow her to pick up his New Testament and place it over the large Bible. Darcy watched fascinated, as she hunched over and studied the passage, reading and re-reading it, in just the same way he did his first time.

A little later Elizabeth also sat up. "Thank you for showing me this Darcy. It speaks to me in so many ways, not in the least giving me hope for the future, both myself and Amy-Jane. The standard King James Version pales in comparison, does it not?"

"Yes. I've thought the very same. Funny you bring up hope. It was only once I understood what it meant, truly understood what it meant for my own life, did hope return."

"What do you mean? When did you feel you had no hope… Oh…" She had sufficient understanding to look embarrassed in even asking the question. The obvious answer was not something Darcy felt should need stating, so an awkward silence descended.

A little later, Elizabeth turned in her chair to face him, and then asked "Darcy, what made you look at this passage? And what made you …" Elizabeth picked up the slim volume, "… look in this version not that?" she pointed to the 'usual' King James Version, before continuing, "And how was it connected, as I know it must, to that … that morning?"

This caused Darcy to pause. What should he say? Where should he start? This did give him the opportunity, in explaining, to apologise for that morning. This was something he knew he had to do, in the same way that Elizabeth had to explain her change in name, before there was any chance to progress past the awkward point they found themselves in. He'd even rehearsed what he should say in his mind a number of times, but now he had to do it, Darcy was suddenly tongue-tied.

"Ah… I want to say… I just want to start with…" Darcy paused, where did he want to start? Should he provide an explanation before apologising? He wrung his hands nervously, before noticing he was doing it, and stopped. But the nervousness did not quit and drove him to stand and pace instead. Darcy kept glancing at her to gauge her reaction to his untoward behaviour. To his relief, rather than seeing annoyance or exasperation he saw only interest, that and maybe a little concern there as well.

"Elizabeth, the explanation is wrapped up in my need to apologise but also as an expression of my gratitude to you. I am not sure how to put this, and whether by bringing up the past I will add to the original offence..."

By now Darcy was standing staring out the window, afraid to even look at the lady of his heart's desire, in case he saw rejection or worse. So Darcy spoke to the room in general, "Ah, maybe I should start in the end rather than the beginning. My maternal grandmother, the Dowager Countess is a remarkable woman. I hope you get to meet her soon, she wants to meet you. Oh, I suppose it best to tell you that I have told her, Mr Bingley and the Featherstones of my proposal, if not all of your reply. Actually that not entirely true, my grandmother knows all of it, but there is a reason for that. Can you forgive me for talking of it to others?... No answer? Yes, I suppose I better tell you why so you have more to judge on."

"After you rightfully rejected my appalling offer. No, please accept I now know it was possible the worst I could have been to someone I loved, or thought I loved. I cannot think of those words now without a deep feeling of abhorrence for the gentleman I once was. But at the time I was in a resentful temper and feeling, quite wrongly, as the victim in the case. So it was with a wounded heart I retreated to London where, to assuage the effect of my folly I tried to overcome the… disappointment I felt by throwing myself into the social whirl. As you can imagine, this caused a great deal of speculation and gossip, which took little time to reach the ears of my Grandmother."

"So I was summoned… Yes, I felt just like a naughty child before their father's desk. It was she that got me to look at my own conduct, and how what I had done. It was she that showed me your reproofs, however indignant I felt that day, were both valid and perfectly warranted.

"But… Mr Darcy I was so very wrong about you, all I accused you of was based on falsehood. To even think you could be like your cousin…"

Darcy turned hearing this. Elizabeth showed only sympathy and concern on her face. Darcy felt that must be licence to continue to confess what had sat heavily on his soul for months, "Anything incorrect was only superficial, what had I done to cause you to think I was not just like all the other gentlemen that treated you so ill? Nothing. It was in the significant areas of my life you accused me in truth… I remember the words as if it was yesterday, 'your pride, your selfishness and arrogance and a lack of gentlemanly conduct and heartlessness I have come to expect from you' and I…

"Don't remind me of what I said that day... Please."

"But I must. In what of that were you wrong? It was only with the help of Grandmother I was able to see myself, as reflected in a mirror for the first time, as guilty of everything you accused me of. She made me write out, in full everything I could remember said that day, and then, one by one, picked apart the pretentiousness, the shear conceit I had wrapped myself with since… since I was a young man."

"Oh no. I wouldn't say that about you…"

"But I had to. Can't you see? … No one will change if they think there is nothing that needs to change. It was from your rejection that I was made to realise I have been a selfish being my whole life. As with any child, I was given good principles and taught to do what was right, but I was allowed to follow these in pride and conceit. By being the only son, and for many years the only child, I was spoilt by my parents and all those around me. My parents were good people, my father particularly was all that was benevolent and amiable, but they allowed, and in fact encouraged me to be selfish and overbearing, to care only for myself and the rest of my family. Cosseted and praised, I was left to think meanly of the rest of the world, or at the very least, think much less of their sense and worth compared to my own. To give you an example, I had no problem with Bingley enjoying the pleasure of your Uncle and Aunt's company, while denying the very same for myself through some misguided sense that my own position would somehow be diminished by acknowledging them. Worse was I could not see the contradiction. I valued the superficial over what is truly valuable."

"But Darcy, you never treated me poorly, even if I misinterpreted your actions in light of my own misjudgement from the very start. I can only say now I am heartily ashamed of my poor judgement then. Like you, I needed to see myself in a new light, and like have done, I learnt from the experience."

"And in that Elizabeth, you have the advantage over me. I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Learn from the experience. Well, not at first. The point my Grandmother bought me to only led to despair not hope, anger not learning. I was so far gone in my arrogance I could not see what could change, even while acknowledging the need to do so. It was only once she told me that there was a simple answer to what I did wrong and what I had to do to correct it that I experienced hope. It was then she showed me that passage and it was like the scales fell from my eyes. Then, and only then I started to learn. I knew then I had a yardstick to measure my actions against. When I think to act, is it from envy? Is it well considered? Am I acting from being provoked or for selfish reasons? Am I doing it to add to my own consequence or to help or uplift my fellow man, or to ease my own path in life to the detriment of others? In short am I doing this out of love for them or love of myself? So that passage has special meaning to me, and if you excuse the conceit this once, I believe it is the best of the gifts you gave me that day."

"Is it not better to attribute the gift to your Grandmother? I gave you no gifts that day, only rejection. You could not have left Mrs Carter's house feeling in any way charitable towards me."

"That is true, but can't you see, your gift was like a seedling, only small and unimportant at first, but with the right care, turns into a large tree bearing many fruit."

"I can't see how you can get many fruit from a litany of insults, given much, and I bow to your superior judgement of your own person and not say all of them, were unwarranted."

"But from that, your spirited defence of Jane's attachment to Bingley led to me interfering again, but with what I can only hope to be a much happier result. It has also led to reacquainting myself with the Featherstones and Lord and Lady Tretham, although I must admit that the former have been easier to befriend than the latter. I even feel that my dealings with Georgiana have only improved since I bothered to listen to your advice regarding her as well."

"Now you can't attribute anything of that last matter to me. Georgiana is her own person and will grow to be a fine lady in her own right."

"Yes, but you made me see that she was no longer the little girl I read stories to in the nursery, if only by treating her the way she should be treated. To treat people as they should be treated, not as you or even society expects is another of the lessons I can directly blame you for, if it is blame that should be apportioned."

"Blame me all you like, I am happy to have that on my conscience."

"So you should. So you see I am, thanks to you, more changed since that day than possibly the five years since my good Father passed away. All of this the outcome of words I should never have uttered, of sentiments and requests that I am so very ashamed of."

"Do not say that Darcy. It has been many months since I also have been ashamed of my own words that day. You have been very charitable towards me, attributing all the failing on your side, when a great deal of it should rightly come my way…" Darcy was about to object to this, clearly, wrong statement but Elizabeth held up her hand.

"I think now it would be foolish to quarrel for the greater share of the blame to be apportioned for that morning. Let us just acknowledge the conduct of both was not irreproachable, and be glad of the change in both of us. Like you, I did not learn the lesson straight away. In fact, I fought against the very thought that I was, in anyway, at fault that day, unwilling to see my own blindness while deriding you of your own. It was only later that I was willing to see past my own failings. And like you, it took someone else to force me to look in the mirror."

"What? Who?"

"Your cousin Richard. He asked me to find out what happened to Mrs Younge. That was the start of it."

"How so? I did what I could for her, but it was not much, there was too much evidence against her to prevent me getting the charges dropped. I couldn't blame her. She was led astray by Wickham. He always was too charming for his own good, although his charm was no defence in the end…"

"Yes, but I was convinced that you would have been happy to see her hung, and Lord Roskill would have been happy to oblige you."

"I'd never rejoice in someone's death, just as I regret to this day that Wickham lost his life in the manner he did."

"Yes, and that is part of your inherent goodness that I failed, no… chose not to see. So it was when I discovered not only you had managed, somehow, to force Lord Roskill to pass a sentence of transportation, but had also paid to send Mr Wickham's body to be buried here in Lambton next to his parents, that I had to re-examine everything I thought I knew about you. The abject lesson in my own failings was no easier for me than what you described. And so I had to look at all the offenses I held against you and had carefully nurtured over that time, to find each were shown to be the product of my own prejudice. Several times I contracted a nasty illness from standing at the end of the East Pier in all weathers, as it was where I found I thought the best."

Darcy remember being told she'd been sick once, but not several times as Elizabeth was hinting at. So with great deal of concern in his voice Darcy said, "No! You are alright now, are... Of, course you are alright, but please, don't do that again."

"I won't. And you can be certain of that."

"How?"

Elizabeth laughed, "There are no piers here in Lambton."

This broke the tension. Darcy had to laugh as well.

After the laughter faded, there was a pause.

The silence stretched.

As it did, questions swirled through Darcy's head. Most he would not ask, but one, the most important question of them all, had to be asked as, in the end he had to know.

So Darcy strode over from the window and sat back down in the chair next to Elizabeth. He reached out his right hand and clasped hers while gazing directly into her eyes. Darcy knew, from long experience, the real answer, whatever anyone said was reflected in their eyes. In that brief second, her eyes only showed care and concern, empathy for what he knew now was a shared pain and learning.

"Elizabeth, can you…"

Darcy gulped. He'd never been this frightened of what another person thought, of what they might say, in his life. His future did, in every way depended on her answer. There was much to do afterwards, but a absolute no at this point would be the end of his dreams of married life, for if it was not Elizabeth, he knew it would not be with anyone.

"That is to say… Are you able to find it in your heart to…"

* * *

><p><strong>Here you go... I hope you don't mind me spending a bit of time 'inside Darcy's head' - just to show how unnerved Elizabeth makes him. He's not like that with anyone else. <strong>

**Mr Darcy is about to ask the most important question of them all:**

**- What is Darcy going to say?**

**- Will he word it wisely?**

**- What will be Elizabeth's reply?**

**.**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	57. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 7

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 7**

* * *

><p>Darcy thought his courage might fail him for the first time in his life. This simple sentence took more effort to say than he thought possible.<p>

"… Elizabeth, could you possibly forgive me, for all I did that day?"

* * *

><p>Elizabeth watched Darcy as he sat there nervously waiting her reply. It was funny, but his clasping her hand was comforting, calming, providing her feeling of closeness and friendship. It was not, as she imagined getting her first 'romantic gesture' from Darcy, causing her pulse to race alarmingly, or making her swoon. Given the seriousness of his question, and her need to give a considered reply, swooning would give the wrong impression!<p>

Elizabeth removed her hand from his and stood. Darcy's face showed alarm as he stood also.

"Sorry Mr Darcy… I just need some time to think… This… this is a bit sudden." He looked to calm down some hearing this, so she felt it would be permissible to walk to the window and look out.

While that excuse was more to give her time than the full truth, Elizabeth was surprised at getting an apology at all. He'd mentioned that his explanation would be in the form of an apology, but as he continued and one did not come, Elizabeth grew to accept his apology was inherent in his explanation. But now that it was voiced, what should she reply? She knew that she'd forgiven him a long time ago, but something nagged at her. Was this the prelude to the repeat of his offer? Or was it just to assuage his guilt? It seemed like the former was more likely than the later and if it was… what then?

As she watched the servant in the preparations, Elizabeth knew she could reply that she'd forgiven him a long time ago, but she wanted to know more. Did he know actually how he had hurt her, or did he assume he had done so from her reaction? Could she trust him with Amy-Jane's future, given what he had proposed to do with her daughter? Finally, did he respect her, or would her dreadful mistake forever stand between them, cheapening her in his eyes?

"Mr Darcy", she said over her shoulder, "I would say yes, but it could helpful if you were more specific about what you wish forgiveness for."

She heard him gasp behind her. Had she been too hard on him? Pushed too hard? Elizabeth turned to see how he had reacted pleased to see he appeared more thoughtful, maybe a little puzzled, than had she feared, angry at her presumption. Elizabeth leant back against the window as she watched him pace, waiting for a reply.

* * *

><p>"Ah, well… so there are so many it is hard to enumerate them all…"<p>

Darcy stood, brow furrowed as he had to think through the sequence of events. For something so indelibly marked in his memory, it was still very hard to work out at each point what he needed to ask forgiveness for, some were huge, others more trivial, but Elizabeth wanted to hear it from his lips and he did not blame her for wanting it. She must want to know he was a changed man, and having him show he recognised this must be important for her, thus important to him, if only for her sake. Best to start at the beginning, and work through it all, bit by bit, that way he'd not miss anything.

Satisfied he knew what to do now, Darcy turned back towards her, seeing a vision of loveliness framed by the light shining in through the window, "Hmmm… I suppose my first offence, and you will excuse me repeating any of it, won't you? Yes, yes I suppose you will… Yes, my first offence was surprising you with the strength of my regard. I was so focussed on my desire for you that I forgot to make sure… I forgot to ensure my regard was returned, so surprised you, as I did, so I apologise for that. Then I suppose my next act was to accuse your sister… No, no it wasn't…"

Darcy felt himself start to ramble, before she interrupted, "Darcy, no need to go through the whole of that morning, item by item, I really am asking what few sentiments or requests you say you were very ashamed of, what was, in your mind, the worse of them?"

Glad for a reprieve from having to say everything he had said to offend, he was even more convinced that this meant she wanted to know he was a changed man. So what was important for her to know? While he thought, and to play for time, Darcy went back to the table and flicked through the John Wesley New Testament, while he tried to get his thoughts coalesced into some sort of logical order. After some time, uninterrupted by Elizabeth (she also seemed to understand the importance of silence) Darcy felt he was able to present 'his case' for forgiveness.

"Before I start, I would like to say that, as requested, this is only the most egregious of my offenses that day, and I am very mindful that there are much more than these… four, no, three things, I feel I must request forgiveness for specifically."

"Firstly. The matter of your sister. My interference there was, admittedly, from neglect and indifference to Bingley's requests rather than deliberate. But that neglect was made worse by my assumption that she must acting from mercenary motives, totally unfounded, as I realised later, to my everlasting regret. This was far from the standard I set myself and I cannot explain it, and only ask for your forgiveness. I have to confess I have already apologised to Bingley and, in his typical manner, he seems to have put it far behind him, which is more than I probably deserve, but that is him in a nutshell."

Elizabeth nodded for him to go on.

Secondly… Ah. My requests… no demands, the conditions to your acceptance of my offer that I so arrogantly expected of you, to give up both your family and daughter to make it easier for me. The conceit and arrogance I displayed in requiring these conditions I now recognise as one of the most shameful thing I have ever done. It would be as if you asked me to give up Georgiana, Richard and the rest of my family, but at the time I could not see that. So I not only apologise for the conditions themselves, but for the blindness in my soul that even saw it as rational thing to consider…"

"Actually I need to add, in the matter of Amy-Jane's… ah… coming in to being… I also apologise for forcing you to have to relive the tragic events that led to her being… there is no easy way to put this… being conceived. To have to relive that time must have been very painful for you and I apologise most sincerely for that. I would like to apologise on behalf of my family for the pain and suffering my cousin caused you, realising how futile a gesture that this is."

"Finally, last, and probably what I feel was the worst of what I feel my offences to you were that day… Yes, I see your look, but it is in my view worse than my request to give up your family and daughter, let me explain if I can… From the very start to the end of what I said that day was the result of the most profound lack of respect for you as another thinking feeling person. I remember so very clearly how I, to start my declaration of love I insulted you, and it carried on from there. At no point in my addresses did I ever ask you what you wanted, what you desired, what even you thought. My greatest great sense of shame comes as I realised my sole consideration that day was in indulging my own desires, to satisfy my need to acquire you, as if you were just another possession my wealth could buy. All the other offences, and there were many, both large and small, and that includes the worst individual thing of asking you to give up your daughter, came out my complete focus on what was the easiest for me, what I wanted, my desires, my needs, my expectations. So caught up in self-gratification I never thought of you at all, supposedly as the lady I loved enough to offer marriage. In acting so far from what I now know as what love should be… love considers the other person not yourself, but on that day I was the complete opposite. This was my greatest transgression, and that is what I most desire your forgiveness for."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth grew ever more astonished as she listened to Darcy.<p>

It was easy to accept he desired to apologise for his minimal effect on Jane and Mr Bingley's courtship, even his assumption Jane was acting from mercenary motives was based on another's lies. But given that the main faults really lay with Jane and Mr Bingley or by Caroline, it was another indication of Darcy taking on responsibility for things he was not the cause of, and was far from what she thought was the worst of his offences that day.

Elizabeth was very pleased that Darcy recognised how hurtful those two conditions had been, but even more heartened how he described it as a 'blindness in his soul', the recognition of that showed hope that he was truly a changed man. But it was concerning that he glossed over it so easily.

When he bought up the event of Amy-Jane's conception, she almost spoke, to let him know that she had found her own peace with this and that he needed not concern himself with it, but felt it best to let him speak uninterrupted. His apology on behalf of his cousin was touching, but at least he also recognised how unlikely the real culprit would ever apologise himself.

But this led to what he thought was his worse offence… Given what he'd already said, it was hard to see what he could possibly think was worse than his appalling demand to give up Amy-Jane, and this must have shown on her face as he silenced her.

But as she listened, it was clear he'd thought beyond the insults and hurtful demands, and examined his heart to a greater degree than she ever thought he'd do and a good more than she had done herself for her own motivations. As he spoke she heard the conviction in his voice and the truth of his words. As Elizabeth thought on what he said, he had shown this was indeed the greater offense, and by doing so, showed how in some ways, she too was not blameless in how she'd lived her own life.

* * *

><p>Having been left to say all he wanted without interruption, Darcy knew he had to give Elizabeth time to reply, however hard it was to wait. Actually the voicing of his offenses was cathartic and, even though her reply was crux of his desired future life, Darcy felt strangely calm although anxious to know sooner than later. He could tell that, even initially sceptical, Elizabeth understood how everything stemmed from the absence of real love in his heart even as he had been so expressive in his ardent, but false, confessions of love that day.<p>

Darcy watched as now Elizabeth detached herself from the window and paced, appearing to just as deliberately, as he had done, frame her reply in her mind. As she did so, Darcy realised he would be happy with anything other than a complete absence of her forgiveness. But that she'd been willing to listen to him explain and took her time to reply was a good sign… or at least he hoped it was.

But Elizabeth did not keep him waiting too long. "In reply I will first say that I forgave you of many of your perceived offences against me very soon after you left Ramsgate."

Then she paused. Darcy was glad she'd forgiven him for many things so soon afterwards, but there was a very large 'but' implied in that statement, and he wondered was the pause to best word unpalatable words?

"As for Jane, your conduct after learning the truth, given what you knew was based on another's deliberate lies, has only been exemplary and I cannot find fault in any of it. I see nothing there that you have to ask forgiveness for, but as you have done so I can provide very easily."

"The same with how Amy-Jane was conceived. I have found my own peace with this, thinking only of the wonderful gift God gave me by allowing Amy-Jane to enter my life, than agonising over anything I lost. I feel it best you should know that it has been many months since I thought you were anything like your cousin, and everything that I learnt of you since that morning has confirmed how very different you are from him. I can only be ashamed that I ever thought so, from the flimsiest of evidence invented by my own prejudice. And in this I ask forgiveness of you."

"Of course Elizabeth, you had every right to think I was like him. My behaviour up to that point gave you no cause to think otherwise."

"Actually, Darcy, had I been less prejudiced it should have been obvious your behaviour was very different, but that is not important. We have both have forgiven the other for this, let's just allow bygones be bygones."

"Certainly." Darcy was happy to concede the point, but was now, starting to worry that his two most heinous offences had not yet been discussed.

"Thank you Darcy. It is the same with the conditions. They were what I took as most offensive on that day, yet what did you say that was not as society expects? … Nothing. But it was a matter of many months before I could see that. It was only what was prudent for you to say, and had I been only concerned with wealth and status myself, I would have accepted. It took even more months to realise that you requested it not for yourself, you made it clear that you accepted me and Amy-Jane, if only in private, but it was, as you say, to make it easier for you, to ease our possible marriage's acceptance by society, not that you had anything specific against her or my family in general."

Was this forgiveness? Darcy wasn't sure. But the pause appeared only so Elizabeth could collect her thoughts as she continued, "Now, given what you've just said, particularly that you admitted how deeply you feel the shame of making those conditions, it is easy for me to forgive you for doing so. And that goes for all the other things, both large and small, I forgive you those as well."

Darcy knew now he had managed to convey what was in his heart well enough to allow for a new start. He could dream of a future together with every chance of it happening!

"Thank you Elizabeth. I am most grateful for you magnanimity towards me."

"But Darcy, I have not finished… As for your final reason to want my forgiveness, I have to admit, it came as a surprise to me. But that you were able to bare your heart to me, not knowing my reply, is all I need to accept your contrition is genuine. Until today I had some reservations, but now I have none. You are forgiven, totally and completely. I can only hope that you can forgive me for my remarks as well. In that way we can be friends, as I realise we were for the entire time you spent in Ramsgate."

"Of course, it goes without… No I suppose it needs saying, yes you are forgiven, but then again you've never needed to ask. I'd love to be friends. Could we start again? Forget my initial insult?"

"Why yes…" Elizabeth curtsied, "I am very pleased to meet you Mr Darcy."

Darcy bowed deep in reply, "And I am very pleased to make your acquaintance Mrs Smith. I understand you're to move to our neighbourhood soon?"

"Yes indeed, but my great aunt Mrs Carter has not yet decided on where we are to live. She has been looking at a few properties, but she's not found a place yet."

"Well I am happy to provide hospitality until you do. In fact, I know this might be somewhat precipitous of me, having just met you, but do I have your permission to court you?"

Well, he obviously still had the ability to surprise her, from her reaction. Had he been too forward? Darcy was no very worried that he'd ruined all the progress he'd just made, when she laughed.

"Mr Darcy! And maybe you'll think that I'm too fast, but I accept."

"Elizabeth, you're not joking are you?"

"No, no not at all. I am very happy for you to court me."

Darcy let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and rushed over to grasp both her hands again. When he looked up, the distance had closed, even though he hadn't moved. "My dearest Elizabeth, you have made me the happiest of men!"

Elizabeth laughed again. "Well Darcy if you go into raptures with just my accepting your offer to court me, maybe we best wait a while before you make any further offers…" Then she laughed again. Darcy hoped that meant she was just joking about delaying, but as they said, many a truth is said in jest.

"Of course Elizabeth. This time I intend to do it properly. While I think it unnecessary, I am happy to defer to your judgement, should I seek out your father to ask his permission? Even though…"

"We are not on speaking terms? I'd love to be there to see his face if you did, but no… no, that won't be necessary."

"Your Uncle? Jane? Do I need to ask anyone?"

"No need to Darcy, I am my own woman."

"Don't I know that!"

"Very true, but it is double now I am a widow."

"I, for one, am pleased I don't need to ask anyone's permission. But apart from that, do you want to announce it? I am happy to do it today at the fete or later tonight if that is your wish."

With a worried tone, she replied, "Actually Darcy, can we keep it just between us for now, please? I would prefer it to be low key for a little, get more used to the idea, is that alright with you?"

"Certainly. Whatever you wish."

"It is. Thank you for being understanding and more so for thinking to ask. Give it a few days, that way any announcement from us won't overshadow Jane's happy news."

"Jane's news?"

"Oh. I should not have said anything."

"Maybe not, but you can't honestly think you can leave it like that, pray tell me more."

"I shouldn't, but it is not like it will surprise you… Jane has every expectation that your friend Mr Bingley will make an offer on his return."

"Oh, that's excellent news. Is it certain?"

"Appears to be, from every indication Jane got in a letter he gave her just as he left."

"The sly devil, he's not mentioned it to me. I shall have to have him up about it… "

"Please don't. You can't let on to anyone. I promised Jane I'd tell no one, but it slipped out."

"Certainly, that fine, I'll not tell. But thank you, this will make being the host much easier."

"How so?"

"Knowing they need time alone, I'll rearrange the planned activities for next to allow it sooner rather than later. Monday I'll have everyone go walking in the park, and arrange for a picnic the day after. Do you think they'll need another day after that?"

Elizabeth laughed, "No. Actually I doubt even the picnic is needed. But if it is, are there any machinations you won't go through?"

"Not where a friend's happiness is at stake. If need be, next week will have walks every day."

"I'd enjoy that, even if the matter is settled on the Monday."

"I thought you might. I kept trying to catch you in one of your walks but I could never get the timing of my breakfast right. I kept missing you."

"Oh. I've been having breakfast in the nursery, and then going in and out via the back stairs to avoid disturbing the others."

"Of course you'd spend the morning with your daughter. Silly me. Is it possible, in the future, before you go out, for you to walk past my office? If I am free I'd love to accompany you."

"Certainly. But speaking of my daughter, I suspect I need to go to her. I'm sure it's later than I usually turn up already."

"Oh I am sorry. I should not have kept you."

"Yes, Darcy you should. We needed to have this talk. I, for one, am very pleased to have done so."

"And I also. But let me not detain you further. Do you wish me to accompany you there?"

"No, that is not necessary. I suspect you have a lot to do today. I'll not detain you further from what is important."

"In that case, let me be the judge of what is important to me." Darcy held out his arm, with a little pause, Elizabeth slipped hers in his and they chatted on much less inconsequential things as he escorted her to the nursery.

* * *

><p>The rest of the morning was spent sorting out a myriad of last minute problems, petty squabbles and frantic action to avert possible disasters and Darcy found himself busier than a one armed paper hanger. Yet none of these problems could wipe the smile off his face.<p>

She said yes! In the back of his mind, Darcy knew it was to courtship not marriage, but the difference to him was minor. Her forgiveness was all that mattered, he was sure he would be able to touch her heart so when it came time to make another offer he'd get the answer he so desired.

Before long the locals started to arrive, and Darcy welcomed them all with a short speech that was very well received. The crowd shared Darcy's bonhomie, although he did suspect that the free food or beer and ale on tap were the main cause of that. Darcy circulated around, trying to catch glimpses of his Elizabeth as often as he could, but mindful of not appearing too distracted or disinterested in those he was talking to at the time. As expected, his tenants were very vocal in exhorting him to do join in the various contests, particularly with the wrestling competition, but he turned them all down.

After a late luncheon, the cricket match, the most important event (well as far as Darcy was concerned) commenced. The tenants won the toss and chose to bat first. Darcy's team did well at first, getting the first pair out cheaply as Trentham cut a swathe through the main part of their lower order, but just before his seventh over disaster struck. Trentham, fielding close to the bat was unable to dodge a cracking good shot and was hit forcibly on the right elbow. While this was not sufficient to cause him to retire, he could no longer bowl. The tenants had already posted a reasonable score and look like they could produce a match winning one when Darcy had couple of lucky bounces in his fifth over getting two batsmen out in successive balls and then, in the very next over, Featherstone, throwing from deep in the outfield, hit the wickets directly dismissing another. After that, they were into the tail and the Pemberley staff (and guests) were able to keep the total down to something Darcy thought to be fairly easy to reach.

After a short break, Darcy and Trentham went out to open the Pemberley innings, but Trentham's injury meant he was only capable of pushing the ball around for singles or the occasional two. As for Darcy, maybe he should not have tried to play the hero (and spent less glancing to see if Elizabeth was watching – she was – and more time watching the ball) as after posting only 7 runs, he tried for a massive blow to impress her (aiming for the ditch he'd spotted earlier), but instead of connecting, it was a swish and a miss, the ball slipping through to send his leg stump cartwheeling. Feeling a little stupid and cursing his hubris Darcy returned to the side-lines and watch as the rest of his team attempted to chase down the tenant's total. Trentham was out soon after Darcy, but Mr Reynolds added a quick fire 23 before caught in the slips, followed by Featherstone's surprising 40 (and not out at the end as it so happened). While regularly losing partners at the other end, Featherstone bought them home. It was fitting he hit Pemberley's final runs needed to beat the tenant's total. As it was a close fought contest everyone ended the game happy, although the tenants vowed to even the score the following year, as 'Mr Darcy might not have his guests to assist as well as they did'.

* * *

><p>Dinner that evening was a quiet affair, held earlier than normal, in consideration to the servants who'd have to stay past dinner to clean up, and they'd been up since daybreak. As they all went in Darcy rued that he could not have Elizabeth sit near him. As much as wanted to throw the rule book out the window, he could not, well, not without mortally offending the Trenthams, although with the little progress he'd made there so far, it almost seemed worth it. But in the end, it would only be a few days before they announced their courtship, and then rules be hanged, he'd have Elizabeth sit to his left.<p>

It was a worry that Richard had not turned up by now, he had expected him to arrive before dinner, but thankfully, just before the ladies were due to withdraw, Darcy was informed his cousin had arrived, but due to being travel worn, he went to the Library rather than join the dinner party.

So immediately after the ladies left, he received a sly smile from Elizabeth as she went past, Darcy excused himself and rushed to the library. As he hurried, he wondered, could he tell Richard that he was finally courting Elizabeth? It was not that he had been sworn to secrecy, but the very idea of doing anything low key was anathema to his cousin, which he had promised. He'd still not managed to decide by the time he reached the library door, so just before stepping into the room he decided discretion was best and not to say anything for now. Anyway Richard's news was likely to take precedence.

Richard was sitting at a side desk, tucking into a plate of cold cuts, cheese and a few bread rolls.

"Richard! It is good to see you."

Richard stood, awkwardly, as he brushed crumbs off his coat, before noticeably limping his way towards him. "It is good to be here Darcy. Sorry I did not join you for dinner."

"Don't mention it. Look go back and finish your dinner. I can wait."

"No problem I'd almost finished anyway." Darcy was very concerned with the way he moved gingerly over to one of the wing backed chairs close to the fire, favouring his wounded leg, and sat down with a, "Ahh! You don't know how nice it is to sit in a seat that doesn't jostle and jounce about under you, regardless of how careful Wilkins was, the local roads leave much to be desired."

"Are you alright? Your leg..."

"Nothing to worry about Darcy. Just over did it on the ride up to Matlock. Haven't done anything like that since returning to England. Foolish of me really."

"Why did you return? Oh... brandy, port or some of that dreadful whiskey Bingley's so partial too? Have you been promoted? Your Sergeant didn't correct me when I called you Colonel."

"Make it a whiskey. It is a promotion of sorts. I'm still a Colonel, but now attached to the Marquis of Wellington's personal staff."

"I assume that is a good thing? What happened?"

Richard explained how, on returning to Portugal, he took the new recruits to meet the British army that had been besieging Badajoz, arriving about a week after the final battle. Richard mentioned very little about the battle itself only to say the reports of the enlisted men's conduct in aftermath was horrendous. As none of this was reported in the papers, Darcy asked for more information, but Richard would not provide anything more, even when pressed, only added it was something that he'd personally never wish to see repeated by a British force anywhere.

Richard changed the subject, clearly not wanting to talk any further on it, back to his change in fortune. It was in the week after he arrived that he was noticed by Wellington personally, something about the way his new recruits were far better prepared for campaigning in Spain than the usual new arrivals. Richard recounted how, being hauled into Wellington's tent and grilled for an hour or so on what he'd done with his new men, he expected some form of reprimand, but was given a promotion of sorts instead, and reassigned to Wellington's personal staff. His duties was to first rearrange how the new enlisted men were conditioned for the climate in Spain, and after spending about a month doing that, he was then sent back to home, to visit each of the militia companies in turn, to arrange to move the best of them to one of several training centres around England. The last of these, he'd sent to Newcastle, the one before that, to Brighton. Richard could only report this was necessary as the war is chewing up men almost faster than they can be replaced, and it was mostly losses due to illness and the climate that was doing that, which is why Wellington was so keen to get him involved.

When he'd finished, Darcy asked, "So how come you never wrote to let us know you were back?"

"But I did. I sent it as soon as I knew I was coming back. From your question I assume you never got it?"

"No. And you didn't think to send another?"

"No. Must be the blasted censors. I suppose it was because I wrote to let you know what I was doing. Anyway it said that I'd be back but travelling around so much that it would be little point writing to me, anything other than important news could wait until I'd call in on one of my inevitable trips north. So when I got nothing, I assumed there was nothing to say. Is that the case? Your note about Mrs Elizabeth Smith was intriguing, it is her isn't it."

"Yes, it's her. Did your Sergeant tell you her sister Miss Jane Bennet and Mr and Mrs Gardiner are here also? Yes? Good. Anyway, Bingley's had to remove his sister to Scarborough..."

"What!?"

"Long story, but she managed to upset just about everyone in trying to convince Bingley to sever his attachment to Miss Bennet, including Lady Trentham..."

"Lady Trentham? She's here? Isn't she the..."

"The lady Henry married? Yes. They are both here as well. Didn't I say? Sorry. Been trying to rekindle our friendship, but it's been tough. Maybe you'll do better that I have."

"So you went ahead with the plan you wrote to me? Well, good luck. I've not heard much about Henry, but what I had over the years I remember as not being that complimentary. He took the rejection by the ton rather too much to heart I think."

"He's certainly wary of my overtures, but your natural charm might succeed where I've failed."

"Flatterer. But I'll see what I can do. Has he still got a sense of humour?"

"Well, sort of. Just don't say anything that could possibly be taken as an insult or derogatory of his rank, he's still very touchy when it comes to either of those things. He can no longer laugh at himself, which is a shame. But that said I don't know how I'd cope with years of isolation as he has. Oh, yes, Lady Alexandra is as touchy as ever, maybe more so."

"Still as good looking?"

"Yes, possibly more so, the years have been very kind to her. She's more captivating than ever, if you like that sort of beauty."

Richard waggled his eyebrows, replying with a laugh in his voice, "But your ideal is a quite different type altogether, eh Darcy?"

Darcy felt it best to change the subject. They'd talked enough pleasantries to be able to get down to the real business, which was why Richard nearly did himself in getting to Derbyshire.

"Top up?" Darcy got up, holding his snifter so Richard couldn't see it was still mostly full, even as his cousin's was empty.

"No... Actually yes, the leg's been right pain in the arse, a bit more of that Scottish pain killer would go down a treat..." He handed up his glass.

Darcy refilled Richard's glass with a generous measure and handed it back to him, "Here you go. So what made you ride several days, with your bung leg anyway? Your note only said your brother is embroiled in something that has family wide implications. I thought he was buried in Cornwall out of everyone's way? He's not been caught up with smugglers or, heaven forbid, something treasonous?"

"Funny you say that, but no it's not treason Darcy, if it was actually treason our goose would be truly cooked. No it's just his usual 'problem' we've got to worry about. It's just the who with that's the issue."

"So that's why you want to know if Hannah and her daughter Lisa are here. Yes, they are, but how will they help. You'd best explain."

"Darcy, let me spin a tale of foolishness surpassing anything he's done before. Yes, he'd been buried in Cornwall for months, Father refusing to provide him anything now he's married. Father was adamant that as he made his bed, he had to lie in, and it was like that up to a few months ago. From what I've learned, brother mine managed to convince Father that he wanted to take more interest in the family seat in the House of Lords - 'so he can take over the seat in time' - yeah, I believe that as much as you do, but Father's convinced, so he's the prodigal son, forgiven and back in the family fold. Once back he told Father that his Father-in-Law is vehemently anti-government, advocating for making peace with Napoleon, even if that meant surrendering, to restore trade with the Continent."

"Is it true?"

"I very much doubt it, Mr Edridge's trade, if there is much of it any more, he's made his fortune and no longer needs to get his hands dirty, would be with India, and the navy has kept that trade untroubled. So he has no need change the status quo. But people support the strangest things, so it could be. But I really doubt it. Anyway Sumers convinced Father that because of this, and Father's position in the War Ministry, he's hard done by in Cornwall. In the end, I suspect he worn Father down, so Father's reinstated his allowance (actually I think it is more than before), and given him back the use of that House on Brook St.

"So he's been in London, back with the same crowd, up to the same tricks. So before long he had his way with a number of women, preferring them, as always, to be a little reluctant, and need a bit of chasing. This is where it mimics something like what we know of Eliza... Mrs Smith's history. Sumerville's had been chasing the daughter of a painter for a while, before he managed to ruin her. The daughter's stated she was rendered senseless with spiked champagne and so her father demanded Father render an apology to his family, the usual remedy not being available as Sumers is already married. Father believes Sumerville, when he said she was willing - she's a commoner after all - and refuses to accept that his son would be capable of acting this way. I tried to tell Father that Sumers was more than capable of it but he'd not listen. While she's been shipped off to somewhere up north in disgrace, her father is threatening to do all sorts of things in retaliation."

"But what is the father going to be able to do? Your Father only has to deny it and everyone will believe the Earl of Matlock over a painter. You know the ton will always close ranks. And it be worse if he tries to bring a case to the Lords, your Father has all the connections necessary to squash it."

"Ah, he's the rub. Mr Pirie has connections as well. He's some sort of relation of one of the main banking families in London, and the head of the family has taken up the case on his niece's behalf. He's not threatened to going public, apparently he's got the ability somehow to ruin Father, or at least make life very difficult for him. The threat is credible, the bank in question is one of the consortium that are party in funding the war effort, so he will have enormous clout in government circles. Father is ranting about his threat to make the Government to have to choose between the money to run the war and Father's role in the War Ministry and that's where it gets bad for all of us."

"Well that is bad for the Earl and then your brother as your Father is likely to turn on him because of it, but how does that even affect you? Ah, I suppose if your Father has to rusticate, there'd not be much possibility progress you career, getting the right the patronage to ensure you are promoted to Brigadier General must not be easy. But I can't see how it affects anyone else. You mentioned this could affect the whole family, me included. I don't see how?"

"Ah, I suppose it is being done to up the pressure, and the timing is too coincidental to be anything else, but I've learnt of rumours, not that my military colleagues would tell me to my face, that the Earl has been collaborating with the French, and that the powers that be are gathering evidence against him. So if he's forced out of the Ministry that would confirm treason in their eyes, and the rumour mill will go on the rampage. He, and the rest of the family, you included, just by implication, will be tarred with the same brush. You'll not be accepted anywhere in London, and it might even reach as far as Derbyshire. It could be as bad as what happened to your friend Henry, but to all of us. Father's tried to keep this all under his hat. I only found out the full extent of it because I demanded to know why the hell there'd be these rumours circulating about him. The worst of it is Father is refusing to believe Sumers could have jeopardised our whole future in this way. He says he told Sumers of the implication of his actions but Sumers is insisting she was a willing participant. God knows why. I can only suppose my brother is hoping that he can ride it out, if only because if he admits it now Father will cut him off again, with no second chance of redemption. Given Father's in good health, I can see Sumers doing everything to prevent spending years, maybe decades exiled to Cornwall. From all accounts, the Viscountess holds the leading strings with a vice like grip. Hear Sumers' describe her she sounds like she's a real termagant. But I have to admit while I've not met her but I like her already."

"So do I. You are right, this is a real problem for all of us, but I don't know how I can help or even what Hannah could do to assist."

"Didn't you say that she was not that willing but didn't think there was anything she could do about it?"

"Yes. From what I've learned, he threatened to accuse her of theft so she agreed if only so as not to lose her position. But in the end, your Father discovered she was with child he had her thrown out anyway. That's why I found her in the poorhouse."

"I remembered you telling me something about her situation at the time. So I thought I could take her to London to tell Father her story, and you come also, to speak of what you know of the others. While he'd probably not believe her, I hope that your corroboration would put some doubt in his mind about Sumers. We only need Father to unbend a little and apologise. God knows it will take some convincing to get him to see his son is not just guilty of liaisons with willing ladies, 'sowing his oats' as I am sure Father still does from time to time, but much worse, as a predator, preying on those that have to be drugged or blackmailed into it."

"I agree, it has to be attempted. Sure I'll get Hannah in my office tomorrow morning and ask her if she'd be willing to do it. I'll have to make arrangements for the guests. I'm waiting Bingley's return, which I expect any day now and there is a lot I'd have to do to be able to leave at this time of the year. I suspect the soonest we could leave would be Wednesday, is that soon enough?" Darcy hoped Richard would agree to the few extra days, he had a lot to do to prepare to leave here, but it was as much to give Richard's leg a chance to recover as, knowing his cousin, he'd want to leave first thing tomorrow morning.

"Sure. May be good to allow Father to stew a little. And a few little birdies have told me that Sumers' is finding acting the dutiful son hard going, so a bit longer would give him a chance to make a few miss-steps to take the gloss off his current performance. And that can only help us."

"Right. So that's settled. I'll talk to Hannah in the morning. I'm sorry, but I have to return to my guests. You are welcome to join us. It's a fairly informal group, they'll not worry that you've not changed. Well I suppose Lady Trentham will, and maybe Henry. But hang them, I don't get to see you that often, and I am sure Mrs Smith will be pleased to see you."

"Look Darcy, I'd rather just finish another of these", he held up his empty glass and wiggled it, "and off to bed. Let Elizabeth know I'll see her at breakfast in the morning."

As Darcy got up and prepared another whiskey for his cousin, he said over his shoulder, "Will do. What time are you looking at being up? Elizabeth has breakfast early with her daughter every morning, so what if I suggest you met her on the terrace at eight? Nine?"

"Nine will be better. I take it we all leave at ten for Church?"

"Yes."

"Good. Oh, thanks Darcy," he took the now filled glass, "You go back to your guests. I'll not be long for bed."

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**Sorry about the delay with posting this chapter. But as it took some time to write, edited and re-edited the start to get it to where I was happy with, what I see as a crucial point in the story. Darcy needs Elizabeth's forgiveness, which he now has. While I won't say it is plain sailing from now on, their marriage now seems inevitable, so you can be assured the first part of their life-long story is coming to a conclusion. Thank you for hanging in there as this has been slowly unfolding.**

**On another note, this is also not where I had planned the chapter to end, as there is a whole chapter more I had intended to include in it – although that will be in this next chapter instead. But after I added that bit with the cricket match, and some of other stuff I thought the next part is sufficiently new to make the break logical (and I did not want to make you wait any more than you have).**

**As always I appreciate that you read this, and even more if you post a review. As always I am interested in what you think, and from that I can find out whether I've managed to say what I wanted to effectively or not.**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	58. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 8

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 8**

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**Sorry about any problems with this chapter or doubled notifications - I posted it just before some scheduled maintenance and it did not load properly - everything seems to be okay now.  
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><p>Darcy discovered, however an early riser he was, Richard still managed to beat him the breakfast room, and was tucking into what would be two breakfasts for a normal person.<p>

"Good morning cousin." Darcy said as he served himself.

"Morning Darcy. Have you spoken to Hannah?"

"Not yet, she's in the nursery. I thought it best to leave her there until later, I'll probably talk to her at the same time you get a chance to catch up with Mrs Smith."

"So it's nine, is it?"

"Yes. Nine." Darcy sat down and conversation ceased as they both ate.

A little while later, when Darcy had his plate cleared, he waited for Richard to finish.

"Ah… that hit the spot! Pemberley's cook is far better than O'Connor, and he's better than most."

"Is he here? I must admit I've not seen him."

"No he's still at Matlock, taking care of the horses personally."

"That's good of him. I suppose the Matlock grooms will appreciate the help."

"I doubt it. He only stayed because he doesn't trust them to even care for the pitiful hacks Father keeps there, let alone – in his words – proper horses."

"They can't be that bad?"

"They can and are. You know Father. I wouldn't say he actually hates horses, but he certainly sees them as a necessary evil. The best of them is no match for the worst in your stable. Even that ancient beast you haven't the heart to get rid of."

"Hey, Prancer was my very first horse. He deserves a happy retirement, and he's still quite capable. Falworth often puts children on him for their first riding lessons."

"You're lucky to have a Head Groom like Falworth. Things won't be the same here when he retires, he must be sixty, if not a day or two more."

"You'd best not say anything like that in his presence. He's nowhere near sixty. It's being outdoors all the time that appears to have aged him. Anyway his nephew started recently as a stable boy and appears to have the gift. He's the one other person other than Falworth that can groom Germanicus when he knows there is a mare in estrous nearby."

"He's willing to go near that brute of a horse? Damn near took a huge chunk out of me last year. I wonder why you waste oats on that beastly creature."

"But look at his progeny. Cicero. Atticus. That bay I sold last year. Even Terentia is has him as one of her grand sires. Falworth and now his nephew Jack keep him under control, he's not eaten a stable boy for at least a year."

"Maybe you should breed a herd of horses just like him and set them on the French. God knows we need all the help we can get."

"I thought Wellington was doing well in Spain?"

"That he is. But Napoleon has invaded Russia with over half a million men, wit proportional amounts of artillery and cavalry. Can you imagine it? Over... Half… A… Million… Men! … Russia can't survive that. Their soldiers are god-awful raw recruits and their officers are worse. Napoleon's core of hardened veterans will cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Russia will most likely end up another puppet state like Naples or Spain, at minimum a French ally like Austria and Prussia. And this is just as our former colonies have started a ruckus of their own. Now they'll not win that one, but it ties up precious troops that would be better used to drive the French out of Spain before Napoleon returns next year with that Grand Army, fresh from a victorious Russian campaign and throws the lot against Wellington. Wellington's very good, but even he couldn't win against those sorts of numbers. It'll likely end up being a fighting retreat all the way back to Torres Vedras again, but I hope Wellington can hold them at the Portuguese border then instead."

"You think so? That seems very pessimistic. I heard we've just liberated Salamanca."

"That's true. A wildly optimistic view has Wellington at the Pyrenees before winter thus be able to defend Spain from there, but I doubt that. Marmount is nowhere near as incompetent as Masséna. I hate to say it, but if it wasn't for the Royal Navy, we might already be under French control. Problem is, the Navy ensures we'll not lose the war, but the Navy alone will not enable us to win."

"You paint a depressing picture Richard."

"But I fear it is a fairly realistic one. I believe it will all end in a stalemate, we'll keep our a toehold in Portugal, sniping from around the edges, waiting until the whole rotten edifice crumbles from the inside. Napoleon is a great general, but he's a lousy statesman."

"Thank the lord for that."

"True. True." Richard levered himself up from the table with a groan, "Arrgh."

"You alright Richard?"

"Will be in a bit. It's just a bit stiff if I haven't moved it for a while."

"That didn't sound like it was just a bit stiff. Do you want me to summon a doctor? The Lambton one has a quite modern outlook."

"No! Leave off Darcy. I'll just walk it off. You will tell me what Hannah says won't you?"

"Sure. Right then, off you go. I'll let you know."

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><p>Darcy only had a moment alone with Richard after they arrived back at Pemberley after church. He was able to put a smile on his cousins face when he said that Hannah, although a little fearful, would be willing to testify to being blackmailed by Sumerville. Richard thought it was good news, and while they followed slowly after the others to luncheon, they briefly discussed the best way to use her cooperation.<p>

Lunch was a lively affair. Elizabeth, Miss Bennet and the Gardiners expressed their pleasure in seeing Richard again so soon. Isaac was happy to rekindle their acquaintance, although they had not much to do with each other originally. Henry was very stand-offish at first. You couldn't really blame him, as Lady Alexandra's immediately on making the acquaintance started a risqué flirtation with the 'dashing' Colonel, but when he outdid her in being outrageous, she quickly tired of the game and was better behaved, futilely flirting with Darcy instead, something both Henry and Darcy had got used to and now just ignored. After that Henry was more engaging, although how Richard ignored his occasional extremely insensitive comment with such equanimity Darcy did not know. But Richard's skill in making friends was something Darcy could only admire, incapable as he was of emulating it.

After luncheon, they all retired to one of the reception rooms where Richard was peppered with questions about the war, military life, London or his family. All of which he answered calmly, not minding if he repeated himself. Darcy could not understand how Richard could be that happy to be so completely the centre of attention, sometimes not getting to finish answering one question when another was fired at him. Not being needed left Darcy to be able to do what he most liked, that was to sit at the back of the room gazing at Elizabeth. When she first noticed, she seemed a little self-conscious, but got used to his attention quickly, to the point when she added a witty quip to the conversation, she would glace his way to see his reaction. One time she even turned and winked at him before she said something particularly provocative!

Lady Alexandra, peeved from being ignore for the most part, said loudly, cutting across the others, "Mr Darcy, I was so disappointed at the recent ball here I was not able to waltz. Pray explain why such a pleasure was deprived to all of us."

Richard smirked. Elizabeth turned and raised her eyebrows at him. The others seemed happy to allow her to hijack the conversation this way, although Darcy noticed Henry looked a little embarrassed.

Darcy walked back to where the others were sitting and sat himself. "I am sorry Lady Alexandra to disappoint you, but I fear the locals are not yet ready for such advances in social customs. This is not London, and many of those that attend would not be familiar with it. The more conservative would be shocked to see something they would consider scandalous being done here at Pemberley. But give it time. It is still not fully accepted in London yet, you can hardly expect those in the further counties to change overnight."

"But Mr Darcy, Lord Trentham and I ensure there is at least one waltz in any of our local dances, even if was initially just us that took the floor. The more adventurous will soon join you. Is it not your role as the foremost gentleman in the neighbourhood to lead society, not follow? Or is it that you are not well versed with it yourself."

Ouch. He noticed Henry wince, but Darcy thought it best not to retaliate, choosing to reply with a more conciliatory statement . "Yes, but I cannot lead where others fear to follow. I have no problem waltzing when in London."

"There you go. Next ball I shall arrange for you and I to hold a demonstration. I have been told, more than once, that I waltz divinely. Haven't I, my Lord Trentham?" Henry nodded, but said nothing.

Darcy felt he best change her mind before she ruin any positive reputation the Trentham's had generated here in Derbyshire "I certainly would not contradict a lady. But there is another reason why your suggestion would not be the wisest course of action."

"How can that be? What do you mean?"

"Very simply Lady Alexandra, the local musicians would not be up to it."

"Rubbish! Anyone can play a waltz. I know any number. I've even seen sheet music in the piano stool."

"But the local musician's do not play it on a regular basis, that is what I mean."

"My Lord tell Mr Darcy he is to include one in the next ball. I want to dance a waltz."

Darcy answered for her husband again, "Lady Alexandra, this would be more painful an exercise than you think. Do you mind if I demonstrate?"

"Fine. How?"

"If you don't mind, can we retire to the music room." Darcy turned to the others, "I would be happy if at least a few of you could accompany us."

In the end, everyone came, curious to see how Darcy could convince her.

"Lady Alexandra, pick out any piece of waltz music, either from Georgiana's selection, or play from memory if you wish."

"I'll play from memory, thank you."

"That is great. While you get ready, I'll just ask if Mrs Annesley can come."

"Why?"

"You will see." With that Darcy rang the bell and when a footman arrived he gave him his instruction before returning to the party.

"Hopefully she will not be long. Are you ready to play Lady Alexandra?"

"Just let me know when you want to start." On saying that Lady Alexandra started to practice while Darcy walked over to Elizabeth. "Mrs Smith, do you waltz?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Can I have this dance?"

"Why certainly Mr Darcy."

"If anyone else wants to join us you can." Darcy watched as Mr and Mrs Gardiner were the first to pair up, then Henry paired up with Jane, while the Featherstones and Richard sat it out.

Seeing everyone was ready Darcy called out, "Lady Alexandra, would you mind?"

And so she started to play. For the next few minutes, Darcy turned and twirled Elizabeth in his arms. This was as close to heaven as he'd ever been. Elizabeth's face flushed with pleasure, her eyes clear and bright. A most delightful smile playing on her lips. With the glorious feelings being this close and moving as one, with the lady he loved beyond life itself, Darcy realised regardless of how unready for this dance the locals were, he'd ensure that there'd be at least one in every event held at Pemberley once they were married. So it was with great disappointment that Darcy heard the music stop.

"See Mr Darcy, you have a number of couples able to demonstrate it to the locals. Is this not the proof of the rightness of my request?"

"Actually I think it proves my point. The waltz is a wonderful dance with the right partner..." Darcy smiled broadly at Elizabeth, "but also needs the right music. I must say you played that very well, and without sheet music, you should be commended for doing so. I doubt the local musicians are to your standard, and that is the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Wait until Mrs Annesley arrives I will be able to demonstrate my point then."

Lady Alexandra looked sceptical, and looked like she was growing annoyed with the delay. But thankfully it was not that long before Mrs Annesley was ushered in.

Darcy turned to her, "I am most sorry to bother you Mrs Annesley, but would you mind finding a waltz tune you don't know by heart from the selection in the piano?"

"Certainly Mr Darcy. Would not one I've play without the sheet music be better?"

"Actually no, I want you to play as a local musician would. They would not know any that well."

"If that is your wish. There is one Georgiana only received a few weeks ago, I've played it a number of times, but do not know it well."

"That would be perfect. Thank you Mrs Annesley."

Lady Alexandra, reluctantly surrendered her place at the piano while Mrs Annesley retrieved the music score in question.

Darcy addressed Lady Alexandra directly. "Lady Alexandra, if you would care to dance this waltz with me? Or would you wish to dance with your husband?"

"With you Mr Darcy, you have the point to prove."

"In that case, Mrs Annesley, whenever you are ready…"

This time it was just Darcy and Lady Alexandra on the floor, the others standing back to watch. It started well enough, but as Mrs Annesley's tempo was not always spot on and thus did abruptly change at times as she got caught on a tricky transition, regardless of how Mrs Annesley tried not to do so. Lady Alexandra quickly became annoyed. The piece had not finished went she stopped abruptly and stomped off.

"You win Mr Darcy. That was too much to bear. I concede your point."

"But in return I concede yours. The local musicians are not ready to play any… yet… but when danced correctly, and as you say, I can assemble a group of couples to demonstrate it, it is a great addition to the usual range of country dances. The local ladies certainly could do no better than to follow your example. Mine I will not vouch for, other to say I know I am at least competent. But this way I have a year to prepare them…"

"A year! Why not sooner?"

"Sadly, Pemberley is not to host another ball this summer, but I will be certain to have you back next year and I will ensure to host more events then for my guests pleasure."

Lady Alexandra still did not look happy, but there was little Darcy could do about that. Thankfully Henry looked very relieved, he'd obviously been catching the worst of it the last few day.

Darcy also hoped he'd not embarrassed Mrs Annesley by making her play a piece unprepared, but she did not seem to mind. When Darcy had a chance to explain it to her later, Mrs Annesley made it clear she'd not been offended by his request, and was grateful that he'd managed to find a way to prevent his guest causing problems at any future local dances.

To prevent Lady Alexandra dwelling on her defeat, Darcy had the party return to the reception room as soon as possible. Soon after they did so, a footman arrived with delivery of letters including, to Darcy eternal relief, a couple addressed to Lady Alexandra, distracting her completely.

Darcy concentrated on the more personal of his correspondence, First was a difficult to read letter from Charles, dated from Thursday that Darcy thought mentioned he was about to leave. Even Richard was not able to fully decipher whether that was the case, but Darcy hoped that this meant he'd see Bingley soon.

Next was a letter from the Earl trying, but failing, to down play the situation with Sumerville, instructing Darcy not to intervene with what he said was a minor family matter, something he said Richard had taken out of all proportion. His uncle was adamant all that was needed was for him to stand firm, his fellow lords would back him, once they knew of the scurrilous falsehoods perpetuated against his son. They all knew his son would never act in that manner, or believe the lies of a daughter of a painter. Darcy felt like yelling at his Uncle, how could he be so wilfully blind to the failings of his eldest son? Many knew of Sumerville's dark reputation and he was known to all and sundry as a rake of the first order. But then the Viscount was actually proud of this, and regularly did things just to play up to it. Darcy also doubted the Earl would be aware that many of his own contemporaries would like to see the Earl taken down a notch or two. The Earl had trod on any number of toes in his rise to the top of the War Ministry, and he doubted his Uncle's penchant for plain speaking had made any allies once there.

Darcy felt a headache coming on. He'd just managed to grasp a future happiness, maybe now have it taken away, this threat hanging like the Sword of Damocles over him. He looked wistfully at Elizabeth, sitting with her sister, laughing at a letter they were reading, and hoped that she could be made to understand, but feared she might not. But these dark thoughts did not suit what should be a very happy time for him, so to distract himself Darcy found the last personal letter. He was about to read it when he realised it was from Lady Catherine. Rather than add to his mood, Darcy went to open the first of his business correspondence when he heard the door, so Darcy stood and turned to face instead.

"Greeting all! And here I expected to find a happy assembly, but instead I find you all sitting studiously as if in bible study." was Bingley's opening remark as he entered the room, still in rumpled travel stained dress. There were many exclamations of joy at his return, and equally many excuses that they were just reading letters and that was the reason for the quiet.

Bingley's arrival prompted most to fold their letters and conversation resumed, centred on Bingley's trip, the health of his Great Aunt and letting Bingley know the goings on here. But Caroline and her situation was left unspoken, other than Bingley's apology for his delay as he chose to return by coach to ensure his sister did not have the use of it rather than simply riding back here.

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><p>Sometime later, Charles had returned after leaving to make himself presentable, and while Darcy was talking with Richard, his cousin stopped what he was saying abruptly and clearly started to listen to what Elizabeth and Jane were saying to Bingley. Darcy had been paying half his attention to Elizabeth the entire time, recalled Bingley had asked why Miss Bennet and she were laughing at when he arrived, was it his rumpled clothing? To which they replied it was over something written in a letter from Miss Charlotte Lucas.<p>

So Darcy also listened, wondering what Richard could be interested in.

"…Lucas had just described another encounter she had with our odious cousin, Mr Collins."

"And who is Mr Collins?" asked Bingley. The name seemed familiar to Darcy but he could not place it.

"Mr Collins is the unfortunate gentlemen, that sight unseen, unmet, was the bane of our mother's existence, as he will inherit Longborn on our father's passing." Replied Elizabeth.

"It is not his fault Father's estate is entailed on him, he did not choose the distinction." Added Jane.

"No I suppose not, but mother has never let that get in her way of her dislike." Laughed Elizabeth.

"So Mr Collins visits Longbourn regularly to keep an eye on his inheritance?" inquired Bingley

"That's the funny thing. No he is not visiting Longbourn at all. Charlotte said in her last letter he spent only half an hour there on the very first day of his visit, and never been back. He's spent the entire time staying in an inn at Meryton." Elizabeth answered.

Darcy noticed Charles looked as puzzled about this behaviour as he was. Thankfully, she continued, "Apparently our cousin is there solely on the lookout for a wife. And it appears any lady will do from all accounts. It is the express desire of his patroness, this task and her name he drops into every conversation, that he find one local to the estate he will inherit."

"His patroness sent him off to find a wife? What, he can't do it on his own?" Bingley sounded incredulous.

"Actually, Mr Bingley, you may know of her. Mr Collins' patroness is none other than Mr Darcy's aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh." Elizabeth glanced towards him as she spoke.

"I certainly know of her by reputation. Hey Darcy!" Bingley turned in his direction, so Darcy quickly had to turn back to face Richard, "did you know your Aunt's the patroness to Miss Bennet's cousin?"

Darcy feigned having not been listening in to the conversation. He thought he may have fooled Bingley and Miss Bennet, but Elizabeth's smile showed she wasn't fooled.

"Patroness? Who's the cousin?"

"A Mr Collins."

"That's her new parson. I met the man only a few months ago when I visited Rosings. What is he up to that brings him to your attention?"

"Apparently your Aunt sent him to Meryton to find a wife. Can you believe it?"

"Actually I remember the directive clearly. At the time I could only pity the town he was going to visit. He is a most… ah... interesting…"

"I'll save you the trouble of being polite Darcy," piped in Richard, "Mr Collins is the most stupid, toadying imbecile I've ever had the misfortune to meet. No, I'll correct that, he's not actually unintelligent, he did manage to get a degree in theology somehow, but he's so ignorant and obsequious that he's possibly the only person that would take anything our Aunt says as something worth listening to, let alone to be acted on."

Elizabeth replied, "Well, Charlotte says his idea to woo the ladies is to drop her name into every conversation or enumerate the cost of every small part of your Aunt's estate. She said she just about choked when he declared that his patroness may even condescend to allow his wife to visit her, or that she, that is your Aunt, convinced him to put shelves in the cupboards. Charlotte says he has vowed to stay in Meryton until he finds his future wife."

Richard replied with a laugh, "Sounds like he'll be a permanent fixture in town then. I suppose our Aunt will have to put up with his prolonged absence, no matter how 'displeased' she is, won't she Darcy?"

Darcy made a non-committal noise in reply. There was a slight pause before Richard continued, "It's not like we saw anything that would recommend him to any sensible lady. I doubt he'd have even the basic notion of how to woo a woman."

"And yet there are a number of mothers that do not see it that way, Colonel, they see the position and his eventual inheritance far more the person," Elizabeth stated, "And I know for a fact that Lady Lucas is strongly promoting the match. She makes a point to ensure Charlotte Lucas dances at least one dance with him every assembly."

Darcy noted that Elizabeth was staring intently at Richard as she said this, so he also glanced his cousin's way. Richard appeared quite non-plussed with this news, which Darcy supposed meant his cousin had gotten over his infatuation with Elizabeth's friend. Elizabeth obviously, from the noise she made and the expression on her face when he glanced back her way, was less than happy with his cousin's response, as she sat back and took no further part in the conversation. Thus it ended up being continued by Bingley and Miss Bennet only, with the rest happily (or unhappily) sitting out.

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><p>The following morning Elizabeth found Amy-Jane a little unsettled, but thankfully she settled after breakfast, allowing Elizabeth to head to Darcy's office at the sort of time she had hoped, this being the first day of their 'arrangement'. Quietly opening the door leading to his office, Elizabeth stood in the door way, just watching for a while, as Darcy meticulously worked through the estate books, shuffling bits of paper and adding up columns of numbers. It reminded her of all those years ago, watching as her own father did the very same. As comforting this vision was, she knew she could not intrude like this for long, so after a little while Elizabeth coughed, to let Darcy know she was here.<p>

Darcy was everything that was attentive, but as they exchanged pleasantries and walked out into the grounds, Elizabeth sensed Darcy was a distant and more than a little distracted. This was not a good start to their supposed courtship. Had he changed his mind? After the third time Darcy failed to respond to a question she had enough and stopped walking. Elizabeth became even more annoyed when Darcy took several steps before he even realised she was no longer walking along side her, before turning and hurrying back.

"Elizabeth, dear, what is wrong?"

She was almost annoyed enough to tell him that their courtship was over, but the look of genuine concern in his eyes made her pause before replying, "I think the question is what is wrong with you, sir?"

"Wrong with me?"

"Yes, you. If this it to be an example of your idea of courtship you've got off to a poor start. You've been less than attentive and have failed to answer my questions on several occasions already."

"I have? Oh I am so sorry." Darcy's voice and eyes pleaded with her, "Can we start again?"

"Yes, we can. So, what's troubling you?"

"It does not signify, of what were we talking of just before?"

"I am sorry Darcy but that just won't do. Something is troubling you. If we are to marry you need to allow me to know, to be able to help."

"It is just... Just...Oh how do I put this...?" Elizabeth waited patiently allowing Darcy to get to the point.

"Elizabeth, I need to let you know something, something that could well affect me, in fact my whole family, that, if it comes to pass, I could not, in good conscience continue my courtship of you."

She was shocked, was he looking to pull out? He must have had second thoughts. "In that case, sir, maybe we should quit while we are ahead. At least if we finish this now, we can remain as friends. It is clear that my situation was sufficient to cause you pause."

Elizabeth was equally surprised at the anguish on Darcy countenance, as he replied most violently, "No! It is not that. No, it is not you it is me. Please let me explain!"

"Sure. But this better be good." Elizabeth folded her arms and prepared to hear his explanations, if very sceptical of being convinced of anything he would say next.

But the story that Darcy related, how Amy-Jane's father had bought the Matlock and thus the greater family, Darcy's included, to the brink of ruin, from actions so similar to her own ruin, simply amazed her. She could see how, if Darcy was thought to be related to a traitor, it would be the ruin of him and Georgiana, and the rest of the family. It was like a dagger straight to her heart hearing how such a vile man, whose actions had damaged so many already, was now poised to cause more damage, to more people she loved. That Darcy would have to go for the period of a se'en-night or as much as a fortnight just as they had found each other was going to be hard as well, but understood that it needed to be done. Elizabeth was wondering how she could talk him into taking her and Amy-Jane with him, when Darcy's last statement caused Elizabeth to pause. "...but with the Earl's view of the lower classes, I put a less than even chance on him believing Hannah or the testimony that I will relate of the other servants I've 'rescued' from his son, I can just hope the weight of numbers..."

Darcy was about to say more, but Elizabeth needed to think. Quickly she put her finger on his lips to quieten him as she said "Shh. I need to think."

Something nagged at Elizabeth, but it took a while to percolate to the surface. "Darcy. You say the Earl is unlikely to believe a servant, even several of their stories. But what would he think of the testimony of a gentlewoman?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would the Earl, your uncle, believe me?"

"I could not ask you to do that. You've been through enough."

"But you are not asking. I am offering."

Darcy seemed surprised, "I thank you for your offer, but can't you see, it is too much for our family to ask of you. "

"I could not allow my future husband to face this alone. You have to let me to try."

"But there is always the chance that even then we won't succeed. What then?"

"I don't see anything will change. Well, not between us."

"But I would be ruined. We'd have to emigrate, I could well lose Pemberely, maybe everything else as well."

"Darcy! Am I marrying you or your house? How you quickly forget I've had to start completely anew once before, and I'll be happy to do it again, for the man I love. As for the rest, as long as we are together I am sure we'll get by."

"I just feel I will be cheating you if I am unable to provide for you in the manner I should do."

"Do not think that. I for one would not feel cheated. Your worth is not what you can give me but in who you are, always remember that. So it is decided then. I will come with you when you and Richard leave on Wednesday."

"Is it decided?

"Of course it is. I said so didn't I."

"But... But... Yes dear. So it is decided." Darcy paused for a moment, then continued, "Actually, would you be willing to bring Amy-Jane with you? The resemblance between her and my cousin at the same age is uncanny, and if you don't mind, I think it will help our cause."

"I'm not sure. I don't like the thought of her meeting him. How will I explain it to her, 'Amy-Jane, meet your father', what will she think?"

"Would you have to? If she remembers him, and that is not certain that she would, it can be just as a relative of her new step-father. You do not have to explain the relationship then, or ever if that is your wish. I'll back whatever decision you make. In fact, I had thought if the truth is ever revealed by the Viscount or even if you were subject to rumours, I would tell the world that it was I that was Amy-Jane's father, explaining the delay in marrying you to be a moral failing on my part. People would believe me over him, even if, in that one instance, he was telling the truth not I."

"And I would not let you do that. Let at least one of us not be known for our tarnished morals."

"Maybe we could leave it as something we should talk about it if it even comes to that?"

"Maybe. Back to the matter in question, do you really think Amy-Jane presence will help?"

"Yes I do... Actually I have something to show you... It's in my office." Darcy gestured for both of them to head back towards Pemberley. As they did so, Darcy continued, "Although this comes with a confession... Do you remember back when you were staying in London, and Georgiana had her portrait painted?..."

As they walked back, Darcy continued his explanation in low tones but this was punctuated with "You didn't!" and "You cad!" or similar. Pleasingly, Elizabeth's words were also accompanied by laughter, so he knew she'd not taken offense.

* * *

><p>Darcy noticed, as they sat down for luncheon, there was a great deal of unspoken communication between his friend and his paramour. Bingley was full of bonhomie, carrying most of the very lively conversation as they ate, while Miss Bennet was shyer than normal and blushed rather too. Darcy had though to possibly mention to his guests of his plan to leave the day after tomorrow, but with an announcement that Darcy was convinced was only a matter of minutes away, he decided to hold his tongue. Darcy's speculation was confirmed when, once the food was being removed, Bingley stood and tapped his glass with a knife.<p>

"Ladies, Gentlemen, I wish... that is to say..." Bingley looked at his intended, with a look so transparent, Darcy already knew what was coming, "My beloved Jane has made me the happiest of men by accepting my hand this morning!"

With that the table erupted in congratulations!

When the first rush had died away, Jane then carefully fished out from around her neck, previously hidden by her dress, a beautiful gold filigree necklace and ruby pendant, to show off Bingley's first official present to his bride to be. This caused the commotion to return to previous levels as all wanted to see and exclaim about this extremely handsome gift.

By the time things had finally calmed down, Darcy stood in turn and, while apologising that the short notice would prevent his cook from doing the occasion justice, he intended to provide them a celebratory feast for dinner tonight. Then added to it might be few hours later than normal, so he would also provide a larger than normal afternoon tea on the terrace, before excusing himself to make the arrangements.

By the time Darcy returned, as a banquet, even an impromptu one took a lot of organising, the guests were all out on the terrace, enjoying the afternoon's warmth and the spread laid out before them. He was pleased Georgiana had chosen to stay after he asked her to come down and be part of the social occasion, but had given her the option to stay for a short a time as she wished.

The conversation was lively, full of witticisms, prompting a great deal of laughter, even when Henry sailed a bit too close to the wind with some of his comments. But Darcy was only partly paying attention, spending the opportunity of being virtually ignored, to gaze lovingly at Elizabeth, delighting that she was as radiant as her sister with this news, but he was just as delighted that she returned his look with just about the same intensity. They way they both carried on, had it not been the very afternoon of Bingley and Jane's announcement, they might have well painted their own situation in yard high letters across the front of Pemberley. In the end Darcy was certain that Rebecca and Mrs Gardiner twigged to the situation, but quite frankly, Darcy did not care. And from the blatancy of her actions in return, neither did Elizabeth.

The entire party were reluctant to part, but with the sun starting to set, the temperature had dropped, so people left to get prepared for dinner. Darcy waited as everyone left, smiling as Elizabeth was the last but him to go. Darcy was trying to think of what to say when she walked up to him, tiptoed to kiss his cheek, then with a soft "thank you" she hurried after the rest.

* * *

><p>Everyone was still in an effusive mood as the gathered for dinner, and this continued through the first remove. Darcy was very pleased with the cook efforts, providing a sumptuous feast on very short notice, even if shy of a few of the normal dishes. But as those took a day or more to prepare she was easily forgiven, and the others did not appear to notice their absence.<p>

It was Darcy was about to ask the foot men to take away the first serving that Groser slipped discretely into the dining room with a small tray. Darcy excused himself to enquire the reason for his interruption. On reaching Groser, Darcy noticed there was a letter on the tray and went to slip out into the hallway to deal with what had to be important correspondence.

Groser stopped him, whispering, "It is for the young lady, Miss Bennet."

Darcy could not stop himself, "Miss Bennet!?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, an express rider arrived just a few minutes ago."

"Express rider?"

"Yes sir. I paid him rather than disturb you."

"Very well done. I suppose I shall have to hand it over forthwith." With that Darcy took the express letter and walked over to Miss Bennet and, in the first vaguely convenient moment, he leant over and whispered to Jane that an express had arrived for her. Once he had her attention, he handed it over.

As went to Darcy sit down Jane announced the express to the company, to the obvious comments about the speed in which good news travelled. When Miss Bennet indicated that it was from Miss Charlotte Lucas, Darcy noticed Elizabeth went pale and looked intently at his cousin again. Meanwhile Jane, having opened the letter, started to read it silently as the others waited.

Jane had not read more than a few lines when she suddenly turned very pale and exclaimed, "Oh no!"

* * *

><p><strong>Well that is the last cliff hanger in my plot outline, but I suspect it will be a surprise to all of you. What's your guess to what has happened?<strong>

**Sorry about the lack of quoting any of Mr Collins 'bon mots' or anecdotes from Charlotte's second letter, but it is hard to be funny on demand - maybe you as readers could suggest something **(as Mr Collins said himself -"I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions.").** When I rewrite this once finished I'll include the best ones in what Charlotte wrote of what Mr Collins said to her or she happened to overhear him saying to others as he tries to 'woo' any of the eligible maidens of Meryton.**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	59. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 9

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 9**

* * *

><p>Darcy watched as his friend fished the letter off his fiancée's plate and carefully wiped the gravy off the back of it, while an ashen faced Miss Bennet, after composing herself enough to be able to speak, let them know that her father, Mr Bennet was found badly injured and unresponsive at the bottom of the stairs by the Longbourn housekeeper. His tumble was certainly the cause of his broken bones, but the doctor believed the fall resulted from Mr Bennet suffering an apoplexy while ascending.<p>

As could only be expected, poor Jane fielded a number of simultaneous requests for more information. But Jane was too distraught to continue, so as Bingley comforted Jane with quiet conversation just between the two of them, he passed the letter to Mr Gardiner. After quickly reading it Mr Gardiner stated that Jane had already related everything Miss Lucas wrote about his brother-in-law's condition, and suspected that this early in the peace, it was possibly all there was to know.

He then went on to read out Charlotte's brief description of Mrs Bennet's reaction to this calamity, also retiring to bed with all sorts of "conniptions and palpitations" and the arrival of Mr Collins at Longbourn, "to provide Christian comfort to his relatives in their time of need" (Darcy could only imagine what sort of "Christian charity" Mr Collins would provide ) before finishing with her reassurance she would be doing her very best to nurse Mr Bennet as both Mrs Bennet and Miss Lydia were not capable of doing it at this time and she, at least, had prior experience.

While this was going on, Darcy cast a worried eye at Elizabeth. She appeared close to tears, Darcy could only guess that her ties to her family were still strong regardless of how she had been treated. He dearly wished he could be as open in his support for her as Bingley could be for his fiancée – damn the rules that made it this way – but he hoped the concern he had for her would be apparent in his unspoken words. Thankfully she had Mr and Mrs Gardiner there offering her the solace he could not (well not just yet).

Not surprisingly, this broke up the dinner party. After offering their condolences, first the Featherstone's, then Richard and then, a little later, Lord and Lady Trentham left for other parts of the house. As Darcy got up to deal with the repercussions from this abrupt end of the festivities, he was gladdened to see that Elizabeth moved to the other side of the table sitting next to Miss Bennet, speaking words of reassurance, but also likely to gain comfort in return.

Darcy first had dealt with the staff – the entire second course would be offered to the servants, to general rejoicing that Groser, sensing the mood of his master, even if the other did not, was not able to quell – but, thought Darcy, no point letting good food go to waste, and he did not mind their celebration, they were not to know the tragic reason for their master's largess.

Leaving belowstairs, Darcy then caught up with his cousin, sitting by himself in the Library. After some discussion about how they were to deal with their own family problem and the logistics for their trip to London, Darcy agreed with Richard that they should still leave Wednesday as planned. The contentious point centred around Richard's ability to ride; he was sure he'd do it without difficulty, while Darcy was far from being as certain. However any suggestion Darcy made about him riding in a coach or them taking an extra day to arrive was rejected outright, so Darcy conceded the point. As Richard went off to arrange for Sergeant O'Connor to bring the horses here tomorrow, Darcy went in the other direction to see to his other guests, knowing he'd chosen not to mention that Elizabeth would be coming with them, hoping to at least give her one last chance to not entangle herself with him and the possible dark future that lay ahead.

By the time Darcy made it back to the dining room, he found only Mr Gardiner deep in conversation with Bingley, Elizabeth, Miss Bennet and Mrs Gardiner having all retired for the night. Joining in at the end of their discussion, her discovered that they would also be leaving Wednesday morning, Miss Bennet in particular, was very keen to see her father again, very worried that she had only this brief chance to reconcile with him, and Bingley was happy to facilitate it for her.

This put Darcy in a dilemma, he should tell them of his own plans, but how could he explain Elizabeth's accompanying him and Richard? And how should he explain his own departure? In the end Darcy only partly confessed the situation to them both. He explained that Richard's arrival was due to a family problem, exactly what left deliberately unspecified, and that he and his cousin had spent several days determining what had to be done. Their conclusion was Darcy needed to accompany Richard to London, also intending on leaving Wednesday, while asking Bingley to act as host while Darcy was away, but that was no longer possible. He explained he had planned to tell his guest tomorrow, choosing not to announce it tonight to avoid any over-shadowing of Bingley and Miss Bennet's good news. But the express from Miss Lucas changed all that, and thus, the discussion between the three of them had to be widened to include the other guests.

The three of them then got up and joined the other guests in the closer drawing room. Darcy took the lead in explaining the abrupt change in plans, to the obvious disappointment from Henry and more surprisingly anger and resentment from his wife, the Baroness. But Isaac and Rebecca were far more understanding, as expected. Darcy's offer to continue to host Trentham's mollified them a little, but not as much as he had hoped. In the end he had to promise to introduce them to his Great Aunt, as her recognition would do a great deal to reinstate them in the ton.

The Baroness also baulked at the Wednesday departure, but once she was convinced that Darcy and Bingley were not going to bend on this point she, however reluctantly, conceded that she would be ready or be prepared to be left behind. At that was not to say that this was the only time one or other of the Trenthams, and sometime both, conspired to be difficult. There were several times in the evening where Darcy wanted to tell them both to make whatever arrangements they wanted, but leave him out of it. Thankfully at those times either Isaac or Richard managed to intervene and calm the situation, so all but the finer points had been resolved by the time everyone made their way to bed.

* * *

><p>Early next morning, as Darcy frantically tried to deal with all the things that had to be done before he left for an unspecified length of time, Elizabeth popped her head around the door, asking if he was wanting to go for a walk. Regardless of how much work he had to do, Darcy jumped at the chance, clumsily getting up and knocking over his chair in the process.<p>

Damn! less haste, more speed, thought Darcy as he had to stop to right the chair, before joining her. However annoyed with himself, Darcy could only be pleased with how his clumsiness prompted a smile from his love. She could do with something to be cheerful about, it was obvious from her puffy red eyes she'd been crying. As they walked, Darcy expressed his sympathy, and in turn learnt more of how her situation came to be, and of the previously close relationship she'd had with her father, but now ruined. On learning this Darcy resolved, to himself, he'd do everything in his power to achieve this for her, if exactly what he could do was not apparent now.

Rather foolishly, he learnt after the fact, Darcy again gave her the chance to withdraw firstly her offer to come to London to confront his cousin, and then also her acceptance of his courtship, given his situation as their connection was not fully established yet. But it took much apologies, and a solemn promise to never mention this again before he'd calmed Elizabeth temper arising from the temerity of his suggestion. So after her dressing down, leaving him feeling properly humbled, Darcy knew not to ever make this mistake again, but also feeling so very blessed to have such a woman to fight on his behalf. It was that point Darcy realised that with her by his side he no longer worried about their future. Whatever that would be. Even disgrace and exile could be faced with equanimity. Darcy almost proposed there and then, but it was that nagging part of him that was not sure he'd done enough to overcome his offenses against her that prevented him from doing so.

It was as they started on the return to the house that Darcy mentioned his dilemma regarding her accompanying him to London, and was surprised at how quickly she was able to come up with a solution that had worried him all night. Elizabeth's answer was simplicity itself; she'd openly request at breakfast could she come with their party to London, as although she would not likely be accepted at Longbourn, she could not just sit here in Derbyshire so far away if there was a chance at a reconciliation. Then he'd only have to consent to this and problem solved.

* * *

><p>Over breakfast, the surprises didn't stop. it was then that Darcy learned that his sister, not content to stay at Pemberley, was coming to London also, and this was not as a request, but a statement of fact. In the end, with Elizabeth's request made and granted, and with all the last arrangements resolved, everyone was leaving in two parties.<p>

The smaller, going to direct to Hertfordshire and Longbourn was Bingley, Miss Bennet and all the Gardiners in Bingley's coach. It would be a tight fit even if Bingley chose to ride rather than join the other three adults, three more children and a baby inside. But Darcy could imagine the pleasure of being squished in with the one you love for several days overcoming any downsides of being squished and confined with such a collection of children.

The larger party, going slightly further to London, with the gentlemen riding and the ladies in the Darcy coach and another coach hired for the trip. The second coach ended up being necessary Georgiana and Mrs Annesley as well as Hannah and her daughter Lisa were included along with the other lady guests. Darcy also suspected that Isaac would end up in the coach, having never been a great horseman in his youth, and Darcy doubted he'd even had a chance to ride while in London and would not survive the several full days in the saddle. They could have all fitted into a single coach, at a squeeze, maybe Hannah having to ride up top and another inside looking after Lisa but Lady Alexandra kicked up so much fuss about having to share with either a servant or two children that it was just easier to hire a second coach. It also made it easier, however much he protested it was not necessary, to have a spare place for Richard to sit if required.

The only one of the party that arrived only a few weeks earlier that was not leaving was Mrs Carter. Darcy did enquire after her (but only after he overheard her name mentioned, much to his chagrin for forgetting one of his guests) and was told she had found a place to stay in Lambton, and would want to remain here, but Mr Gardiner would make the offer.

* * *

><p>So Wednesday morning, as Darcy was out supervising the last minute preparations, he noticed that O'Connor was also saddling up, while Richard was nowhere in sight. As this might be his only chance to save his cousin another crippling ride, Darcy wandered over.<p>

After a few brief pleasantries, Darcy got to the point. "Sergeant, you know my cousin better than anyone. He says he's up to a ride to London, but you and I both know how he was when he arrived at Matlock. Can you have his horse pull up lame?"

"No sir, he'd see through that. I only got away with it 'cause it were my 'orse and getting dark."

"So Sergeant, what can we do to get him to ride in the coach?"

"Actually sir, that won't be necessary."

"Not necessary? It's further to London that what he rode getting up here."

"Ah, but this time he'd be riding alongside a coach, lucky if we get there in only three days. The ride up were only a problem 'cause he had it in his 'ead to be here 'afore Sunday. You know the Colonel, sir, once he's fixed it in his head to do something there a hell of a job getting him to change his mind."

"Yes I know."

"Well, as we never left 'til early Friday, he'd given us only two days to do it. But with the long summer days, we woulda done easy like if it weren't for the Colonel taking a detour the first day and spending several hours in..."

"What is this Darcy, hmm?" Richard interrupted, striding quickly over towards them.

"Ah, nothing. I was just checking with your Sergeant if you needed anything before departing."

"A likely story! You were trying to convince my underling to some subterfuge to get me in that blasted coach, don't deny it."

"Well, if you must know, Richard, I was asking him for his opinion on your ability to ride." This statement was accompanied by a glare from his cousin, directed mostly at O'Connor. So to not to get the Sergeant in trouble Darcy quickly added, "But he assures me you are more than capable."

"And I will. Do you doubt my own sense?"

"Well, Richard... Do I have to answer that truthfully?" Darcy said with a smirk, hoping to defuse the tense situation. When Richard laughed, Darcy felt relief, and heard O'Connor breathe out.

"Point. But in this case I will be fine."

"Alright I concede. I know I've been overly worried about you. I'll drop it if you promise that rather than ride on when you shouldn't, you'll take a space in the coach. You'll be no use in London if you can't walk."

"I promise... Now don't you have several coaches to look out for?"

Darcy took the hint and left, hoping he'd not got O'Connor in too much trouble.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you forgive me for the week delay in posting this, the last chapter in Pemberley. <strong>

**As you can see Jane and Bingley are going to Longbourn while Elizabeth and Darcy head to London. Up 'til now I have been writing all of the most recent chapters from Elizabeth and Darcy's perspective entirely, but as the story 'splits off' the significant other characters (Jane/Bingley) for a while before they all join back together I wanted to know would you prefer:**

**1) Have parts of the next couple of chapters also written from Jane and Bingley's perspective, swapping between Elizabeth's confrontation with the Viscount and Jane's own one with her parents.**

**2) Do the same as above but specific chapters for each different location/Bennet sister. If you prefer this option, which confrontation would you want to read first, Elizabeth or Jane's.**

**3) Learn what has happened at Longbourn only by the contents of letters from Jane to her sister, another's perspective when Bingley writes one letter to Darcy, and then a different view again with a letter from Charlotte to Elizabeth - each of these letters quoted in amongst the London chapters.**

**Each option has its own merits, and presents different possibilities, so I am unsure which one to do, and can't decide which - so I hope you can help out. **

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	60. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 10

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 10**

* * *

><p>The party made slow progress, as could only be expected of 3 coaches and half a dozen outriders, and so arrived in Leicester later than everyone had hoped on the first day. This first night involved they descending on Mr Benjamin Whitlaw, a friend of Mr Bingley's. Although Elizabeth did wonder if, after having to put up that many guests on such short notice, whether he'd still consider Mr Bingley a friend. On the other hand, Mr Whiltaw and his wife Emma (who was the one that had to make all the arrangement) appeared to take the arrival of such a number in their stride. It helped that they had two children of similar ages, so there was already a schoolroom and beds could be found for the Gardner's offspring, Amy-Jane and Lisa as well.<p>

They were very genial hosts, and Mr Whitlaw had a booming laugh, partnered with a keen eye and sharp mind for the absurd, which was a complete surprise to most as he carried a most severe countenance when not laughing and could best be described as looking like a human vulture; tall, lean to the point of being cadaverous and so appearing to be all angles and edges, the physical epitome of the gothic villain or a puritanical preacher. Something Jane and Elizabeth giggled about latter that night when they were finally alone.

Unfortunately it appeared that neither Darcy nor Mr Bingley had been able to make similar arrangements any closer to London, so the remaining nights were accommodated at the best inn at whatever town they got to by the time most had had enough travel for that day, with somewhat mixed results. The Fox and Goose indelibly written to everyone's mind as a place to avoid at all costs, but the service and accommodation of the Black Bull was such that, in years to come, the Darcy's would often plan their trips to ensure staying there, in preference to anywhere else within 20 miles.

But apart from that enjoyable, sometimes hilarious, first evening, the trip, every waking hour closer to London, slowly filled Elizabeth with dreadful anticipation of the coming confrontation. A number of times along the way she nearly asked Darcy to allow her to take the coach and carry on to Ramsgate, back to safe obscurity, if that was even possible now. She wanted to talk to Jane about it, but their long years living separately made it difficult, and in the end she did not mention any of her concerns. Elizabeth now realised the close rapport of their earlier years was yet another casualty of that night. Nor were the close confines of a coach, or shared meals in a county inn, always with people that did not know, and probably should not learn of the Darcy's family problem made relieving her anxiety any easier.

Elizabeth tried her best to conceal this growing anxiety, and the deep melancholy that accompanied it, but it was not possible. So she became adept at ignoring or failing to answer questions, as first Jane, then Aunt Gardiner, and not long thereafter, Rebecca, Mrs Annesley and most recently the Reverend Featherstone, all made ever less subtle enquires as to her health or emotional state.

Elizabeth's darkest moment, had she had to define one of a long and emotionally troublesome trip, was just after the party separated after an early luncheon. It was then her beloved Jane, the comfortable surety from the sheer presence of her Uncle and Aunt and their children, and with Mr Bingley riding alongside, headed off to Hertfordshire and Longbourn leaving her to carry on, feeling very isolated and alone, on to London. She and Amy-Jane had walked as far as the nearby shops to watch the coach slowly dwindle into the distance, leaving the others (well, the Baron and Baroness) to their infuriatingly haphazard approach to getting ready for departure.

Elizabeth stood there feeling deserted as silent tears welled up and trickled heated tracks down each cheek as the Bingley coach finally disappeared from view, Amy-Jane, still waving at the departing coach, beside her. She was about to wipe her eyes to return to see how much longer they'd have to wait when she heard footsteps approach, much to her disgust. So she just stood there, hoping by ignoring them, the person now approaching would just leave her be.

But the footsteps crunched on the gravel until the person must be right behind her, so she turned slightly away as an added hint to whoever it was. She was in no mood to explain to Rebecca, Mrs Annesley or the Reverend why she was crying, or heaven help it if it was either of the Trenthams – probably come to find out why she was 'holding everyone up' – as if they didn't do it themselves almost every stop – it was their continual whining that caused Elizabeth to become heartedly sick of the sound of either's voice in such a short period of time – she did wonder at Darcy's seeming perseverance at hosting people that clearly thought the entire party was beneath them.

So it was a real surprise when, without the new arrival saying anything a hand was rested on her shoulder.

Elizabeth turned in annoyance at the unwanted intrusion, but her annoyance vanished at an instance when she saw it was Darcy. He'd noticed! The very presence of his hand seemed to diffused his calmness and strength into and through her.

They stood like that for what Elizabeth felt was a very age, (but was most likely less than a minute) as she luxuriated in the way her cares were routed by his simple act, although not gone, they felt more than halved by being shared. But this time was broken by Amy-Jane's, now insistent, tugs on her hand.

Elizabeth reluctantly turned from Darcy and bent down to deal with her daughter. Amy-Jane wanted to go over to the Chandler's shop, where, prominently displayed in the window were jars of different boiled sweets, in a range of eye-catching colours. Elizabeth, happy to have time alone with Darcy, let her go, moving so that she could still see her daughter, even as she paid attention to her… what was he? Not her betrothed, although that could not be that far off, probably after dealing with the Viscount. The thought of 'lover' or 'paramour' had immoral connotations and thus worth avoiding, but the alternative of suitor, was too staid and ordinary to be applied to a gentleman that had been true to her even after being so abominably refused. But she did love him, so lover was not wrong, just inappropriate, or was it…

While trying to sort this out in her own mind, Darcy spoke, concern for her clear in his voice. "You don't have to do this…" What 'this' was did not have to be uttered.

"I know, but I promised I would."

"I should not have asked…"

"But you didn't, remember I volunteered."

"Even still, you don't have to do it."

"Don't you see, I need to do this for me. And for her." Elizabeth indicated Amy-Jane (now trying to count the number of blackballs in one jar), "And…" Elizabeth, paused for dramatic effect… "…for the two of us as well." She noticed she got the reaction she had been looking for, when Darcy concern changed to a smile after she added that last bit.

His smile was infectious, and she shyly smiled back.

So his smile widened.

Then so did hers.

This continued until they were both grinning like lunatics to each other. In the middle of the street, no less! Without being aware of doing it, Elizabeth realised she they had both moved so they were now so close she only had had to lean forward slightly and they would be touching, completely, from head to toe. He must have realised at the same time as it was a toss-up as to who blushed first.

Darcy coughed, then stepped back while shifting his gloves and crop from one hand to the other, his face suddenly became quite serious.

"I was wonder…"

Darcy coughed again.

"I was wondering… What I mean to say…"

Darcy now put his hands behind his back and stared off over her shoulder.

"Can I…"

He looked back at her again, hands now by his side.

That is… Would you…"

Elizabeth suddenly panicked. Was Darcy going to propose? Here? Now? No. It was too soon. How could she say yes without knowing what he'd hear the Viscount say of her character? But if she said no – again – will he be prepared to ask a third time? Half of her wanted him to ask so she could say yes, but the other half dreaded the prospect, knowing she'd have to say no. She could not, in good conscience accept when she herself was still so conflicted and anxious.

"I was wondering if you would…"

The world froze in place.

Time stopped.

"…would allow me to buy Amy-Jane a pound… no, half a pound of blackballs?"

Tension broken with the incongruity of the question, Elizabeth had to laugh. The imp in her made her reply, "Only if you promise to buy ME the pound you've denied my daughter!"

Both now laughing, they head over to Amy-Jane.

* * *

><p>Darcy had watched as the spark appeared to drain out of his love as they grew ever closer to London. There were so many times he wanted to talk to her, but in such a large party, there was never the opportunity. So when, as the party finally split, Elizabeth headed off with Amy-Jane to wave her relatives off, he took the opportunity once it presented itself, although he gave her some time alone first.<p>

Afterwards, as her rode alongside the coach, occasionally leaning over to take a sweet from the bag thrust out of the window (accompanied by that same impish grin that made him fall in love with her all over again), Darcy thought of the moment they had just shared. It really did seem that his presence had made the difference. Elizabeth was lively and attentive again.

As he was forced to ride off ahead as the road narrowed Darcy still felt like kicking himself, regardless of how well the time together had actually gone. He could not believe he'd, incredibly foolishly, thought to propose! What was he thinking? Charging in like a bull in a china shop. Thankfully the powers-that-be somehow stopped him from blurting out another ill-conceived offer for Elizabeth's hand. He'd seen the panic in her face just in time, and stopped. But that was not to say he was upset with no proposing. What had gave him great hope was noticing the disappointment clear in her face, however briefly, when she realised he was not going proposed after all. It was only too soon, nothing else. With that Darcy vowed that once the situation with the family and his cousin had been resolved – even the thought of that man made Darcy's fists clench in anger – then, only the want of the right opportunity would be necessary before he could ask the question, and he was certain, get the answer he had been dreaming of all this time.

As he looked back to the coach holding the two ladies he treasured most in life – Elizabeth and Georgiana – Darcy wondered if he could be thankful first Summerville and then Wickham were the men they were. Without the bizarre coincidences that led his love to be in the very place she needed to be to assist Georgiana (actually thinking about it, once again Elizabeth was riding to rescue him, not the other way around!) it was inconceivable that he'd ever meet her. If she had not been … he did not even want to think about it… by his cousin she'd still be just another happy, maybe even slightly naïve young lady from a sleepy town off to the north of London, as blissfully unaware of his existence as he would be of hers. Darcy could not imagine any possible way their paths could cross. So he could only thank the Lord that they had.

Seeing up ahead an inn he'd had good service at the previous times he'd stopped there, Darcy ended his musings to ride back to suggest they make one last stop before the final stretch to London.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you forgive me for the many weeks delay in posting this – given it is really only the first part of what I would consider to be the next chapter. <strong>

**The rest of this chapter (now a new one) will deal with Darcy and Elizabeth in London, with letters from Jane and Bingley regarding what happens in Longbourn (that seems both the consensus of the reviewers – and probably suits the story best – although that might change – I'll explain: **

**The reason for the long delay is that I've written out this posted chapter and the one to come several times now – with results I could only consider rubbish at best – the dialogue (once I read it out) was as stilted a pair of 12 year olds having read the love scene from Romeo and Juliet in class. Many edits later (mostly going backwards) – I trashed pretty much everything and started again after taking a week or so break. **

**This is the result of the first part of the re-write, and I think it has come out much better than I had hoped given the starting point (thankfully you'll never see – I've taken the precaution of not just deleting that effort permanently, but also even burning the electrons that made up that part of the file!)**

**I'd like to think the next chapter won't be too far away, but that will depend very much if I can produce something worth posting. Bear with me while I struggle to do so.**

**Thanks for all your comments, over all this time,**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	61. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 11

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 11**

**Finally… (whew!)…**

* * *

><p>Their arrival, late in the afternoon, practically evening, was met with welcome relief by all. No one was up to making a night of it, so after a short, single serving dinner, Elizabeth joined the others in waving goodbye to the Featherstones and headed off to her room for a well anticipated rest.<p>

Waking late, well late for her, the next morning, Elizabeth was surprised to see Bessie, the same ladies' maid from Pemberley, pottering around in preparation of her getting up. In Bessie's typically chatty way, it appears that she and several other Pemberley servants were sent ahead on a Royal Mail coach, to arrive, with a good number of chest as well, nearly a day earlier.

She had to put her foot down after the third change of dress, Bessie seemed to think that all her new dress, so newly made in Lambton, were not "fashionable 'nough for Lon'on". Infuriating! Now back in her favourite, the light jonquil muslin dress with the small floral pattern, and less lace and fluffery than the others, Elizabeth headed upstairs to see to Amy-Jane's breakfast, only to arrive rather too late, her daughter already happily engrossed in the story Georgiana was reading her, oblivious to her mother's arrival or presence. Looking around the schoolroom, Mrs Annesley and Hannah were pottering about looking after those not also sitting alongside Amy-Jane rapt in attention to the story being narrated to them. Sighing, learnt over to kiss her daughter head, getting a minimal response in return, before heading downstairs for something to eat, having missed joining the children for their breakfast.

The breakfast room was empty, so Elizabeth sampled bits here and there from the generous spread, and sat quietly eating wondering what to do for the morning, knowing she should find out when the confrontation was to take place, while dreading the prospect almost as much as the desire to get it over with. As she contemplated seconds, Elizabeth realised she wasn't hungry, all she was doing was delaying the inevitable, so instead she rose and asked the footman in attendance where to find Dar... no... Mr Darcy's office.

Elizabeth was led into a Library and the footman gestured for a door on the far wall. Elizabeth thanked him, genuinely, as she could not see how without his help she'd have ever found the room just from instructions. As the footman bowed and departed, Elizabeth stared at the door before starting to peruse the books that had been left out. Maybe she could discern something of the enigma that was Darcy from the books her owned and read. But other than being very widely read, and with what could only be described as eclectic taste, she was no further informed, nor in the half an hour that had past, any closer to finding out when the meeting was to take place.

Putting down the small well used New Testament, forcing herself to ignore the way it flopped open, probably at a treasured passage, possibly another clue to Darcy's thoughts, to head for his office door instead.

After realising she'd had been standing alongside the door for what was probably only minute, but it had felt like half a lifetime, Elizabeth still could not make the effort to knock. Maybe she'd best go back to that bible, there must have been a reason why it opened at that point so easily. She'd got about halfway back before she realised how silly she was acting, as turned, strode purposefully over to his door, raised her fist and…

…hesitated…

She couldn't do it. As Elizabeth vacillated, thankfully Darcy solved her dilemma for her. She had must have made some noise as he called out, "Who's there?"

Now the choice had been taken off her, it was a matter of no consequence to open the door and introduce herself. Darcy was very pleased to see her, and in return Elizabeth found her anxiety melted away, like an unseasonal snowfall.

After brief exchange of pleasantries, Elizabeth decided to seize the moment, so asked, "Do you know when we will be talking to your Uncle the Earl, about… you know…?"

Darcy looked quite perturbed at this question, and didn't answer immediately which worried Elizabeth.

When he did answer, or at least made several attempts at it, but was actually only extemporising, it worried her even more. When her tried yet again, but failed to give her a definitive answer, had enough, "Please Darcy, just give me a straight answer, when is it?"

Once again Darcy paused, exasperating her, as he rummaged around on his desk, pulling out a letter, and skim read it. Finally he looked up and said, "That's the problem, at this stage, he's refusing to even contemplate discussing anything, with anyone. Worst of it is, as Richard says here," pointing to a part of the letter, then reading it verbatim, "ah, here… 'my reprobate brother has gone off on some jaunt with Tuffy, rumour has it following the new Prince Regent to Brighton, after repeatedly telling father there is no truth in the story. So Father says if Summerville is not worried neither is he…' Richard says 'his father appears to be expecting it all just to blow over and thus sees little reason to pursue the matter further.' So there it is. My cousin has disappeared. My Uncle has his head in the sand and refuses to do anything. As you can imagine Richard is going to try to change his father's mind, but we both imagine it will take at least several days if not a week. So I am unable to give an answer. I can only apologise for forcing you here under such false pretences."

"Come now Darcy, you cannot keep up this belief you have forced me to do anything."

"But…"

"But nothing. I chose to come. This affects my future as much as it does yours. I am sure that Richard will get the Earl to listen to us, I know how stubborn he can be when he wants something."

"But as he gets that from his father, the Earl might be just as stubborn."

"Well let's hope he can be made to see reason. We could force the matter… you know just turn up and confront him with…" her voice petered off, not wanting to say more.

Darcy didn't reply immediately, giving the suggestion some thought. Elizabeth thought this was an encouraging sign, that Darcy was willing to listen to her. She'd seen any number of husbands who wouldn't.

"Ah… maybe as a last resort, as I expect it would more likely put his back up. I'd prefer to see what Richard can do. If my Uncle is in the right mood I am sure we can make a compelling case, with all the evidence we have. Ah… that reminds me, I have something for you."

Darcy got up and walked over to a painting and fumbled around the bottom corner before swinging it away to reveal a wall safe. Pulling a large key out of his fob pocket, he unlocked it and swung the thick heavy safe door open.

Elizabeth stood and walked closer. As Darcy sorted through a pile of papers and leather folios she saw something…

"Darcy, is that the painting you told me about?"

He turned, "What?"

"You know the painting of me, the one you commissioned without asking…"

Darcy looked suitably sheepish, "Ah… yes."

"Well, let's see it."

"Sure." Darcy carefully, almost reverently pulled it out and held it up in the morning light. "You must admit it is a good likeness…"

Elizabeth looked at it. It was a very… faithful… rendering. He looked so proud of it, Elizabeth almost didn't want to give her honest answer, but decided she had to. "I suppose you could at least say that about it…"

Elizabeth noticed that her less than enthusiastic caused Darcy face to fall and let out an involuntary. "Oh…"

"How can I be happy with it? Just look at my hair! He's painted it just as it was… I remember those days I was just putting enough of it up with couple of cheap tortoiseshell combs to keep it off my face! Look at how he's faithfully painted each and every unruly tendril!"

"I think it makes you look alluring…"

"Alluring!? Dishevelled is more like it… and… and… look at how he's faithfully rendered my faded old dress!"

"It's lovely. I have fond memories of that dress."

"What? Why?

"It's the dress you were wearing the very first time I met you."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

"I'll not argue with you on that. Um… Darcy...?"

"Yes."

"Has it been it the safe the whole time?"

"Not the whole time. I used to take it with me when I was travelling, and it always gave me hope, but I hadn't needed this time at Pemberely. I had the genuine article coming to visit."

"Please, tell me no one else has seen it."

"I can assure you of that."

Elizabeth felt a great deal of relief hearing this, so continued, "Please, promise me, you'll not put it on display. I'll even promise when we're married I sit for as many more paintings as you want, but wearing something more appropriate."

"It's a deal. But can't I keep? I'll hang it behind the door so it is only visible when the door is shut. That way I'm the only one that will see it. Please…"

She wanted to say no, but Darcy looked like a child about to lose a favourite toy. So she relented, "Yes, but only on that condition."

"Certainly. Can I put it up… No, best not." Darcy took one last, if long look at it before placing it gently back in the safe. Once done Darcy went back to searching for something, while asking, "Elizabeth… Apart from the… ah… less than… ideal… ah… circumstances. Would you agree to have him paint your next portrait? He did that lovely one of Georgiana just recently."

"I know. I was there, remember."

"Ah, yes of course… Good, here it is." Darcy turned holding a piece of folded paper in his hand as he continued, "So you'd be happy to sit for him?"

"Certainly. I can't deny his obvious talent. By the way Darcy is he?..."

"Is he what?"

Elizabeth laughed self-consciously for evening thinking this, "You know, the artist whose daughter your cousin… your cousin… ah…" she couldn't quite say it.

"…Imposed on? That would be a horrible coincidence wouldn't it?" Darcy laughed as well. "But thankfully, no. Dennis Serge is no relation of Mr Pirie that I know of."

"I suppose one 'horrible coincidence' a lifetime is enough."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"I know you didn't. Still, our situation shows that the Lord works in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform."

"Very true. And for that I am very grateful."

"Grateful? That wouldn't be quite the word I'd use." She said sternly.

"Oh dear. I'm very sorry, I've put my foot in it again, haven't I?" He looked so worried.

Elizabeth just laughed, to let him know she'd just been pulling his leg. "No, not really. But I had you for a moment didn't I?"

"That you did. So with the view of changing the subject, here, this is for you." Darcy handed her the folded paper he'd found earlier.

"What is it?"

"Just open and read it."

Elizabeth took and opened it, ignoring for now the scrawled writing on the outside.

As she read her heart froze.

It was one thing to have memories, if fuzzy, of hearing about the wager that led to her ruin. It was another thing to see it in writing, complete with the comment the wager had been won.

She sat there, finding it hard to breathe, and tried to understand why Darcy would have given her this. Glancing up at him, his face was unreadable, so no clue there. So she read it again to see what she'd missed the first time, and so Elizabeth noticed two things she hadn't the first time. Firstly there was the addition of Jane's name on the wager, which made her feel sick, but when she noticed the second, the comment 'she must be willing and conscious' the implications of this made her blood boil. Even back then, near on six years ago, the Viscount's friends knew what he was capable of. And did nothing about it! Well other than make it a condition of this wager. Well this and how many others? She sat there stunned, not knowing what to do or say.

"Well aren't you pleased?" asked Darcy. He certainly seemed to be.

Elizabeth couldn't help but sharply retort, "Pleased? Why should I be pleased with this? Written evidence of my ruin?"

"Because it the only copy."

"Why would I want a copy?"

"I mean it is the original, I cut it from the betting book myself." Darcy looked particularly proud of himself at this point.

"So?"

Darcy started by explaining he did so there would not be any proof of her and his cousin's connection, so her new history, although he did not know of it at the time, could not be contradicted. As she was digesting this a germ of an idea started. He then went on to spin the tale of how he did it. His description of the way Richard and his fellow officers acted was quite funny, although Elizabeth had a good deal of sympathy for the poor attendant. But she also didn't get the point, all this stuff about being black-balled and sent to Coventry, all seemed so trivial and petty to her, but she supposed boys will be boys. But Elizabeth found his rambling distracting, as her idea was starting to take shape. "Please Darcy, stop a moment."

He looked a bit taken aback but complied.

"So I can keep this?" Elizabeth held up the bet.

"Sure. I was going to destroy it after I got it but then thought you might like the opportunity to do that yourself."

"But I don't have to?"

"Of course not." Darcy looked puzzled, so she continued, "This is the original, yes?"

Darcy nodded.

"So there's no denying these signatures are real?" she asked. Again Darcy nodded, now looking even more puzzled. With that knowledge, Elizabeth was sure her idea would work, "Good. Good! Here's the thing…" and as Elizabeth went on to explain her idea, Darcy's expression went from puzzled, to considered and finally smiling enthusiastically once he understood her plan.

* * *

><p>Later that day Elizabeth took Amy-Jane to one of the local markets, accompanied by Georgiana and Mrs Annesley, as Georgiana expressed interest in coming once she knew, as much to keep her daughter occupied than a desire to spend the little money she had available. All and all it was a successful trip, Amy-Jane proudly clutching a new Primer, with a colourful, painted hardboard cover and Georgiana with any number of bits and bobs in various boxes and parcels.<p>

But it also sobering to realise Bessie was right. Next to Georgiana, even Mrs Annesley, in their fashionable London outfits, she felt very drab indeed, even in the new dress she'd been so proud of only a week or so ago. It became apparent that they must have two separate wardrobes, as their fashionable dresses, would have seemed out of place in Darbyshire, yet fitted in with the other ladies here in London. Many of whom seemed to know Georgiana and stopped to chat, or at least gave a passing greeting. As Elizabeth was still not used to being addressed as Mrs Smith she failed to answer any number of times. They must have thought her a terrible rube, still gawking at the bright lights and glitter, the swirl and bustle of England's Capital.

So over the next week Elizabeth's life was structured about Darcy House, getting up early enough to surprise Bessie each time, then frustrate her maid by choosing her own outfit without trying on multiple choices first, before going up to have breakfast with Amy-Jane and see her settled for the day. Then it was downstairs for another morning in Darcy's company, usually in his office, but once or twice in the library, before parting company after a light luncheon to return to Amy-Jane, her morning schooling over, and now needed entertaining. Darcy offered several times to take them on some excursion or another, but got the hint after Elizabeth declined several times in a row, as she felt it would not be prudent to be seen, as a young widow, with what had to be one of London's more eligible bachelors. While she did not mind the gossip that this would cause, being used to all sorts of slander about her during her first few years in Ramsgate, it would not be fair to submit Darcy to that sort of nasty innuendo. But she was able to convince him that he should escort Georgiana and the Trenthams without her. Her coming would just make the party unbalanced, she was truly happy staying and spending time with her daughter.

But that was not to say she could not help him in other ways. Elizabeth found she could provide a sounding board for his concerns about the Trenthams. Lady Alexandra in particular was always pushing for Darcy to escort her (funny she was not interested in Darcy bringing her husband as well, maybe something Elizabeth would have to watch… later). Although she did not know any of the people involved, by making him describe them and their attitudes or politics, she was able to allow him to come to grips with which invites he could accept and not have the Baron and Baroness snubbed or made to feel unwelcome. And it was to some relief that her advice did not prove wrong, as Darcy was able to relate the success of each outing the following day.

On the other hand, those minor successes did nothing to counter the effect of his cousin's absence, and his uncle's unwillingness to deal with the family crisis, now noticeably affecting them all, from what Darcy was saying, as he gestured to what Elizabeth thought was a considerable pile of invites, but was in Darcy's eyes a woeful amount, mostly pro-forma, and offered hoping that he'd stay true to form and decline most, if not all of them. So Elizabeth found her greatest help to Darcy was to spend some of each morning calming and soothing his frustrations, while distracting by getting him to explain the workings of Darcy House and the Pemberley estate. Even while calming Darcy, Elizabeth worried herself about the upcoming confrontation, and found this distraction as useful for herself as for him.

The bright point occurred later in the week, Elizabeth received a thick letter from Longbourn! Opening the letter from Jane, Elizabeth noticed there were two others. She put them aside and opened Jane's letter:

_My Dearest Lizzie_

_I hope that this letter finds you well. Mr Bingley and I are good. The Gardiners are all well, but I will leave Aunt Gardiner to tell you their news, as she has promised to write a letter to be included in with my one. Father is still not well, and remains confined to his bed. The good news is that Father has blessed Mr Bingley's suit. I have to admit I was worried when Mr Bingley spent such a long time with Father. Father even asked to speak to me, and I answered him as best I could. But all my worry was unnecessary, as Mr Bingley then went up again and it was only the matter of minutes before he returned with the good news. _

_And you should see our sisters now. Kitty has grown so much, she is now a young woman. So it is no surprise to learn that Mrs Durrant is already making preparations for her debut, at the same time as her niece Miss Laura Hepworth. Mary has become quite a scholar and will regularly astound the table with just the right bible verse or quote from the many sermons she knows so very well. Lydia is almost a woman grown as well, and is already the tallest of the three, almost as tall as I. I like to think she has calmed and matured in the time I have been away, although I think she has suffered some disappointment recently. I have talked with her, but she would not let me know what it was, so I do not know if there is anything I can help with._

_As you can imagine, Mother is very pleased to have the first of her daughters married off, and is now starting to talk of being able to marry her other three daughters off as well. I tried to correct her, and say four, but I suppose she is not thinking Lydia is yet ready for marriage, so it is still three in her mind. In terms of the wedding, Mother is a veritable font of ideas and plans, but it is sometimes necessary to direct her towards something more to my taste and also not likely to beggar my future husband before our life together has even begun. _

_It is a pity that with Father so ill we are not able to do much in the way of visiting, I am sure Mother would like to share my good news with the neighbourhood, but for our circumstances, but Charlotte and I did manage to visit... _

_..._

This middle part of Jane's letter was news from Meryton. Try as she might, Elizabeth could not put a face to the names, nor did she find she cared that much if Mrs Rutledge finally had a daughter after two more boys (how many boys was that? Jane obviously thought Elizabeth would know) or if Tom and Betty got married (who they were Elizabeth could not, for the life of her, remember), so she skimmed the rest of this page, pausing only to properly read some news of Mrs Hill's niece, Maude, now married and apparently living in some style with a Grocer in St Albans. Thankfully Jane finished with this before long...

_..._

_So as you can see Charlotte and I have made the most of the opportunities we have had to visit. And she is doing such good work with Father, I am certain that any recovery of his can be laid at her feet. I suppose I should mention with her staying here to ensure father's care at night as well. With Mr Collins also staying, Longbourn is full, so it a good thing that there are less servants here than before as that freed up a few rooms. Mr Bingley offered to stay in Meryton, but Mother would not hear of it. It is so good of her to think of my happiness, as his presence here has made the days so much better._

_Now I best go, as I promised our nieces and nephews a story and they have been so good that I cannot deny them this treat. Hope to see you soon, or at the least get a letter shortly._

_Your devoted sister,_

_Jane_

At the bottom was a short but sweet addendum from Kitty.

_Elizabeth,_

_How are you? I am well. I miss you. I am very looking forward to meeting your daughter, having heard so much about her from Jane. I hope that you can find the time to visit St Albans. I am sure Mrs Durrant would be happy to meet Mrs Smith, as a relative of mine, as she is still very strict about who visits me. _

_Your sister,_

_Catherine._

But nothing from Lydia, Mary or Mother, but that was probably to be expected.

Well it seemed Jane's engagement had managed to repair that breach in the family. Elizabeth did wonder how much of what had gone on she never know, as Jane made it all seem like it was rather easy. Well maybe her Aunt's letter would shed some light on it:

_My Dearest Niece,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and enjoying the sights of London. How has Amy-Jane found the change to yet another house? I know that this can be unsettling for young children. Give her my love. Is everything alright with the Darcys? Let them know we are thinking of them in our prayers. _

_Your father stays abed, although your Uncle feels it is much a malady of the mind as of the body, as the effects of the fall has mostly healed, other than his leg. But a different man could well be up and about, if hobbling, certainly Mr Gardiner would be. Your mother's poor reaction on our arrival was all you would imagine it could be, but your sister was calm and resolute in reply. But now my sister-in-law has a wedding to plan she is in raptures. But, while I dislike being uncharitable, her husband's situation is the farthest thing from her mind. I hope that you can arrange to come here before long, as I feel your mother's good mood means she is likely to make peace with you, if you are prepared to do so also, and I hope you will consider it. But this may not last forever as your sister Jane is (sensibly) thwarting or diverting a good deal of her plans, including a most unsuitable one, where a hapless Mr Bingley offered to put them all up in his house in London. _

_I am also certain you will be very happy to see the way that two the elder of your three sisters have matured. They make Lydia seem so very young, even if she tries to act older. Your Uncle and I hope that she can come to stay with us once Jane moves out, to influence her in some way. Catherine is a most charming young lady and Mary has gotten the better of the bothersome Mr Collins anytime there is a theological debate. Yes he is still here, but as he is often up with your father, who is in no position to run off, as I notice the others do when at all possible, so it is your father and most likely poor Miss Lucas that has to bear his company most often. But she does not seem too put out by it. It does make me wonder if Mr Collins has found the bride that he keeps talking of? He is certainly very attentive of her and she is the only one of the ladies that does not find an immediate excuse to be elsewhere if he enters a room. He must think the Bennet girls are very industrious indeed!_

_I shall just close in saying we are all good. The children are enjoying the freedom of summer country life. As an example Harry found the largest frog I have ever seen and it caused quite a commotion when he bought it into the drawing room. I forget that your mother has no experience with boys and so not as capable of coping with their little ways._

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Aunt Madeline _

Elizabeth was pleased to see that her Aunt confirmed the gist of Jane's letter if providing a better idea of what initially happened than Jane's more charitable report. Mr Collins attention to Charlotte was of concern, as she doubted that her father suffered fools any more now than he had earlier, and would do as he usually did and ignore Mr Collins completely. As the letter came to an end, she chuckled at the thought of a large frog jumping around the drawing room, and wondered if it was as big as the one she'd tried to keep in the dairy when she was 11, something she'd make a point of asking her aunt when she replied.

The last was a short note from Charlotte. Hopefully it would contradict her Aunt's speculation:

_Dear Elizabeth,_

_Just to let you know that your father is on the mend, mostly in spite of my care than because of it. But I must say he is often unresponsive, but that I must put down to Mr Collins' frequent visits to his room, and your father I believe is just doing so to ignore Mr Collins' attempts conversation, so it falls on me to entertain Longbourn's unwelcome guest as best I can. I will warn you that although I have spoken a few times to your father about you, hoping that maybe he has had a change of heart, I do not think this is the case. He has only consented to see Jane once, and only after spending some time with Mr Bingley. She was quite upset after she left. I do wonder what he said to her. Maybe she will let you know. I did let her know that I think maybe it was the laudanum talking, as he does say some unguarded comments at times and I find it best to ignore them, so I hope Jane did not take his words to heart. Anyway, best finish up. Just to say I hope to see you soon, as my patient will not need me before long, and I hope to be able to take up Jane's offer of coming with her to London to help with her trousseau._

_Yours, Charlotte_

No mention of what Father had said in Jane's letter, Elizabeth made a point of rereading it just to be sure, but that was Jane, just as she remembered her. Maybe when Jane comes to London, she will be able to ask her, in a way that Jane will have to answer. So without further ado, Elizabeth sat at the writing desk in her room and started writing her replies...

* * *

><p>While waiting for the morning's post Darcy read the letter from his Steward at Pemberley again, but without getting any better idea with how he was to deal with the problem David Brown was unable to resolve, thus this letter from him that arrived in the last post yesterday. He looked up at the clock, smiling at the painting now not hidden by the closed door, but there was still quite a bit of time before Elizabeth normally turned up, after seeing to Amy-Jane. He really needed her help with this one, he found everything worked out easier when able to ask her advice, or even if it was just by explaining things. Her quick wit often noticed subtleties he overlooked, and it was her very naivety, not knowing the situation or the people, that made her focus on the right thing to do, not the correct or expected one. Darcy hoped that somehow, by just willing her arrival, Elizabeth would appear. But she didn't.<p>

He put down the letter and tried to concentrate on the next, but found it impossible. Blast! They should have been back in Pemberley by now. Darcy knew had he been there, he would've nipped it in the bud before the problem became this intractable. Darcy sighed, here he was, a week in London and nothing to show for it. His Uncle was deliberately avoiding him and Richard, staying late at the War Office, the only place he knew they could not gain easy access to. Richard had given up waiting and had already headed south to see if he could get his wayward brother to return to London. Darcy imagined Richard would find him easy enough, but thought he had little to no chance getting him to come back to London. But none of this was helping come up with a solution for David.

Darcy looked up at the clock again. Where was Elizabeth? Should he get a servant to see if she was coming or could leave earlier? Or would she think he was summoning her just like another servant? No, best not. He'd certainly not appreciate it if he was in her position, so, as he was learning, he had to be aware of other people's points of view. Or was he overcomplicating things? Darcy found it hard to know, he'd been king of his world for so long, from such a young age, it was so difficult to not be lord of the manor to everyone, and the habit was now very ingrained. It was a pity Elizabeth wasn't here, he could ask her, she'd know whether to send a servant or not. Realising he'd talked himself in circles he went back to rereading David Brown's letter hoping to find something he'd missed.

A knock on the door brought fresh hope, and with a cheerful "come in" Darcy turned and bounded from his chair… to be bought back to earth with a thump. It was just Steele with the morning mail. Clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment, Darcy hope Steele did not notice his disappointment and put two and two together. But knowing Steele, he, and Mrs Taylor missed little. Darcy was certain Mrs Taylor was already soliciting Elizabeth's advice on any number of domestic issues, as she certainly had almost completely stopped inquiring about the day to day running of Darcy House with him.

Thanking Steele, Darcy took the mail and sorted through it. The few obvious invites went on the pile, to be looked into later, he still needed to find something suitable for the Trentham's tomorrow night, so they couldn't just be tossed on the fire, which is where they'd have ended up in his present mood in other circumstances. Nothing from David, so his Steward had not performed a miracle and solved the problem in the interim. Ah! In amongst the regular correspondence was a letter from Bingley! Oh, and a letter from the Dowager Countess.

Opening hers first, Darcy discovered a request to come for tea immediately after having his luncheon. Darcy wondered what she'd overheard now that caused this urgent summons. Was it something about the family situation, his hosting of the Trenthams or was it Elizabeth's presence here at Darcy House? Probably all three, the first two would be public knowledge, but the last one was not a secret per se, but apart from that one time, Elizabeth was particular in not being out in public, well with him certainly. Was he doing something wrong? Argh, another thing to worry about! Anyway, he had no doubt his Grandmother knew all about her staying here, she had sources of information he could only be amazed at. But being this afternoon was very convenient, he'd still have the entire morning with Elizabeth, and would not have to do anything with the Baron and Baroness until at least late afternoon. Still nothing he could do about it now, so Darcy picked up Bingley's latest missive.

_Darcy,_

_I hope this letter finds you, Miss Georgiana and Mrs Smith well. Please pass my greetings to them and the Baron and Baroness. Has the family emergency been resolved to your satisfaction? If there is anything I or Adams can do, please inform us immediately. I hasten to remind you that Adams, and all his various talents, are at your disposal. _

_Now to myself. I doubt you would believe the welcome we got at Longbourn. Firstly, we arrived to find no one other than Miss Bennet's sisters and that curate of your Aunt up and about. Then Miss Lydia, who I thought was the eldest of the sisters, but is actually the youngest, rushes off as soon as we make it all the way into the Parlour. Before you know it, a continuous stream of abuse, directed at my Love comes bellowing down the stairs, as Mrs Bennet, still in bedclothes, and in full voice harangues her and the Gardiners like an angry fish-wife. The only thing missing was a week old fish or broom! I realised there had been some estrangement but I certainly had not expected this. _

_But my dearest just stood her ground, I was so proud of her, and when her mother fully arrived, and took a breath, she calmly said, "Mother, can I introduce Mr Bingley" to which her mother made some comments about my possible motives I did not realise were even possible. At Mrs Bennet's next pause for breath (she has a good set of lungs) my darling managed to finish with "… my betrothed. It is his coach parked outside." Mrs Bennet was just opening her mouth to start up again when the realisation must have dawned, and she shut it just as quick. For the first time I think Mrs Bennet really looked at me, and I swear I could see her tabulating my wealth. I felt just like one of those horses you look over before buying. And I suspect she was within a monkey or two of the right figure. I wonder if one of the Gardiner's tipped her off later, as she now makes a point of mentioning my annual income on a regular basis, particularly if she is suggesting some extravagant wedding preparation or another._

_Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I was expecting us all to be sent on our way from that initial greeting, but mention the magic word 'wedding' and Mrs Bennet is your friend for life. So with a mumbled apology and shriek as she realised how she was dressed, Mrs Bennet rushed back upstairs, to come down only a few minutes later to gush all over her daughter and myself. Mr and Mrs Gardiner were ignored, but when I mentioned that they were instrumental in getting Jane and I together she was all apologetic to them also. Sorry to down-play your part but I thought it best to do something to prevent a truly awkward stay. But everything did calm down. Eventually. _

_As for Mr Bennet, while he is not well, from what I can see he is just languishing in bed, I think somewhat selfishly, enjoying being well cared for by that capable Miss Lucas. I did manage to get an audience to ask him for Miss Bennet's hand. After a good deal of questioning of my situation and motivations, he sent me away without an answer. I doubt he and I will ever see eye to eye, as after I left he spoke for the first and only time to his eldest and badly upset her. She will not tell me what he said, but I find it hard to think of him in a charitable way since. After upsetting Jane, I was summoned again, only to make some sarcastic comment about not being able to stop me even if he was at full health, and then dismissed me. I can only assume that meant he gave his consent, or as minimum at least not refused it, at least that is what I have told the others._

_Then there are the Bennet sisters, all so different from each other. The eldest of those already staying at Longbourn, Miss Mary Bennet, although I believe she normally lives with relatives in the north, is a veritable bluestocking crossed with a fire and brimstone preacher. Say anything that sounds like would be fun and she will have a bible verse or a quote from a sermon to show it is somehow immoral. I know it sounds dreary, but actually, the way she skewers the pretentious Mr Collins pretty much every time he says anything is a delight. As for him, I have been told that if you cannot say anything nice about someone then do not say anything at all._

_The middle girl (or is that Mary), well the middle of the other two, is Miss Catherine. She is a well behaved young lady, bought up as she ought, quite different from Miss Mary or her youngest sister, Miss Lydia. I see a lot of my Miss Bennet or maybe Miss Georgiana in her. The youngest is a somewhat silly girl, and I fear Mrs Bennet has overly indulged her. I have overheard several times her tell Miss Catherine about going into the local town, on her own no less, to visit with, and once spy on the Militia Officers in their undress. I can only suppose Mr and Mrs Bennet are grateful that the Militia have headed off to Brighton, as I fear my future sister-in-law was making a cake of herself over a Mister Denny (who I think is a Militia Subaltern, maybe a Lieutenant?) and I doubt the family could weather a second scandal. _

_But I find I have to be very careful with what I say. I think I put my foot in it suggesting that I host the entire family while Miss Bennet arranges her trousseau in London. I said it with the most innocent of motives, but Mrs Gardiner, rightly, saw the potential for scandal and suggested an alternative. Mrs Bennet then tried to convince her daughter to side with her not her aunt, but sensibly, my Love did not give in, causing her mother to sulk until we could distract her with talk of lace and bows. That thankfully is something I can escape from. And only yesterday I was foolish to mention that I was considering buying an estate. From that Mrs Bennet has me signed up to buy the neighbouring estate, Netherfield Park, which has been sitting empty for a number of years. When I then said I was considering the counties near Leeds, there was much wailing about her darling Jane being stolen away from her. While I have ridden over to see the estate, and while it looks like a reasonable property, I am not sure being this close to my mother-in-law is that good idea, but my beloved did not seem unhappy to be living in the area. Maybe you could come and look it over?_

_Best go, as we are off to be paraded in front of one more of the few neighbours that still visit. Hope to see you soon, either if you come up to visit Longbourn and maybe look over Netherfield Park for me or once we all descend on London._

_Yours faithfully_

_Charles Bingley_

Well that was a longer, much more readable than usual, letter from Bingley, full of interesting tidbits. Darcy wondered if he should show it to Elizabeth, but then thought maybe it would be better not to. Mr Bennet upsetting Miss Bennet could only cause her to worry. In the end Darcy decided that Elizabeth would certainly be getting letters from Miss Bennet, so there was no need to make her worried unnecessarily. Darcy was only partly through his reply when it was, enjoyably, interrupted by Elizabeth's arrival. After greeting her warmly as she sat, he picked up David Brown's letter and handed it her to read.

* * *

><p>Darcy noticed how frail the Dowager Countess was looking as he lent in to kiss her cheeks.<p>

"Well, Fitzwilliam. I am relying on you to tell me everything that has been going on. I am hearing the most amazing range of rumours", was her opening remark, after the tea had been served and the usual pleasantries concluded.

Darcy thought it best to start with the easiest one. "I am just providing entre for an old friend and his wife back into the ton. I feel that the scandal of their past should be ancient history now. Once the Baron and Baroness Trentham have established themselves, as they are already starting to do, I will just be another acquaintance."

"Bah, I am sure that you have your reasons to be the one re-introduce those two, but for the life of me I don't know why you bother. Nothing good will come of associating yourself with that woman, mark my words. There is already rumours of a connection between you and her, undoubtedly completely unfounded."

"Yes, of course. You know as well as I do, I have to be seen to accept both of them, but once she has acquired a circle of admirers, which should not take much longer, I'll step back and the rumours will die a natural death. You know I care little for idle gossip."

"I have no worries on that score, I know you are already taken."

"Sorry, what?" Darcy wondered what his grandmother knew.

"You cannot deny Fitzwilliam that your heart is already someone else's, now can you. And from your smiles and good cheer I can but assume it is going well?"

"Yes, yes it's going very well." Darcy could not help but smile broadly at the memory of Elizabeth and him debating the best course of action this morning. She even helped with the wording of the reply.

"Is there an understanding yet?"

"Ah, yes, no, well sort of. We are courting."

"Hmmm…I suppose it is good you are taking things slowly. But don't be too slow, mind. A woman does not want a gentleman that can never get to the point."

"Very true. Well Grandmother I intend to ask for her hand again, soon."

"When this bother with your cousin is over?"

"Yes."

"Regardless of the outcome? Have you told her?"

"Yes, yes to both. And she said it matters little to her whatever eventuates."

"Good, good. There is promise in you after all. Good luck with it all, but given she is willing to accept you regardless, I doubt you need it. But that does bring us to your cousin. Well Fitzwilliam what actually happened? And what has been done about it? I can rely on you to tell me the truth, and all of it, even though my son refuses to say much more than it is all in hand."

So Darcy explained, all of what he knew about what had happened to cause the problem in the first place, how the Viscount and the Earl have responded to date, and what he and Richard had tried so far to do about it. The he included Elizabeth's suggestion, giving her the credit, which appeared to please his Grandmother in no uncertain terms.

In the end, after a great deal of questions, and several very sensible suggestions on how to deal with her son and grandson, who she agreed should be there when the Earl was confronted, the Dowager Countess asked what has been done to get the Viscount to return to London.

Darcy explained, "Richard is certain he went down to Brighton, so has followed him there. I sure he'll be able to find him, I just don't know if he'll be able to convince him to come back, and, as I said earlier, the Earl is not helping at all."

"Where will Richard be staying while looking for his brother in Brighton?"

"He told me to address any letters to the Old Ship Hotel. He thought he might stay with a fellow officer, but as he was not sure where he'd end up he'd pick up the mail from there."

"In that case leave it to me. I know exactly how to get my wayward grandson back to London. You just be ready to bring everyone to Matlock House when I say so. And I'll deal with my son's reluctance to deal with this too."

Darcy realised that he'd just ceded control of the situation over to his Grandmother, but if she was the one person that could achieve what could he and Richard could not, he grudgingly let it rest.

As Darcy left the Matlock Dowager House, he did wonder how she could be sure of his cousin's return, but as it was statement of such finality that brook no counter and he felt it impolite to ask.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the delay with what is really the end of the last chapter. It was about two weeks ago when I threw out everything I had written after the end of the last chapter and started again. This time, while still not coming easy, what I did write only needed checkingediting for mistakes not total rewrites of whole passages. So I am much happy with what I have just posted than before. **

**I hope the next chapters (and I think there are only 3 or 4 more) will come with less anguish and frustration on my part, and without the same delay so I don't try your patience so much. **

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	62. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 12

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 11**

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon, on the day after meeting with his Grandmother, when Darcy's preparations for the evening were interrupted by Richard, not bothering to knock, boldly strolling into his bedroom.<p>

"Ah, Darcy. Good news. Sumerville is back in London, or he will be when Lord Fenwick's coach arrives. I rode ahead to tell you."

"He's back in London? Already?"

"I just told you that. Grandmother is a wonder."

"That she is. So, how did she arrange it?"

"Well, I was staying with Colonel Forster, you meet him haven't you?" Darcy nodded, "Did you know he's got married recently? A pretty young thing, not the sensible or practical woman that would be more suited to a military man, but she entertains the officers well. Possibly a bit too well, if I must say, there might just be trouble there for him later. Anyway when I reminded her I first saw her when the Militia was in Hertfordshire, at which point she made a specific mention of a Lydia Bennet. Would she be Elizabeth Smith's sister?"

"Yes, I am sure she is. There is only one Bennet family in the area. But what has this to do with your brother?" Darcy asked wondering where this explanation was going.

When Richard replied "Nothing, it was just I remembered I was going to ask you about it."

Darcy could not help saying testily, "Can you focus on what happened with your brother…"

"Well, I just asked 'cause otherwise I'd forget. It was just Mrs Forster made particular mention that Miss Lydia Bennet was coming to visit several times you see and that…" Darcy glare finally registered on Richard.

"Sorry. I was out with Colonel Forster, but called into the Old Ship on the way back to his digs, and there was an express from Grandmother, a thick one. Inside was two letters, one for Summers, the other for Lord Fenwick and a note. Making my excuses, I pocketed the two letters and went inside to get better light…"

This was like pulling teeth! Darcy interrupted "I don't want to hear what you had for dinner either, just give me the gist of it."

"Oh. Grandmother's note said to 'deliver Lord Fenwick's letter first' and, now how did she put it… 'impress on him that this was from the Dowager Countess of Matlock, a dear friend of his mother, and requires his immediate attention', the rest of the instruction was to find my brother and deliver the letter, but first getting him to promise to read it. She suggested that I tell him that if he didn't, I was authorised to read it out to him. And as the first passage relates to an incident at Kedleston Hall, she was sure his companions would be all ears. Finding Lord Fenwick took about an hour, and on taking her letter he immediately made his excuses to the rest of the Regent set he was with. He got back to me later than night to say his coach will be at my brother's service to return him to London and was leaving mid-morning tomorrow and I was welcome to tag along. Anyway, finding my brother took a bit longer, he's still on the outer with the Regent, not like Lord Fenwick, but I tracked him down to a hell where he and Tuffy were losing at faro. I managed to get him to come away from the table and gave him the options, he damn near snatched the letter out of my hand, but I managed to hold on to it until he promised to read it."

"Did he read it?"

"Don't know, certainly not then, he just went back to the faro table, letter stuff in his pocket. But he must have, he turned up the next morning and climbed into Lord Fenwick's coach without complaint. They offered me a seat, but with my brother looking surly and Lord Fenwick looking disgruntled I chose to ride instead."

"Do you know what happened at Kedleston?"

"Not a clue. I wasn't able to open the letter to check, I looked at doing it, but Grandmother sealed with a ribbon as well as wax. It's like she doesn't trust me!" Richard said indignantly. Darcy chose not to say anything as Richard continued, "Whatever she wrote worked. Sumerville is back in London. Thought it best to tell you."

"Thank you Richard. I imagine the meeting will happen in the next day or two. As you can tell Grandmother knows everything, and will probably be the one directing the troops. Can I count on you to help out with the ladies?"

"Certainly Darcy, no problem. Only don't keep me out of the room for too long. I want to be there when my brother is taken down a rung or two. Actually, I hope its most of the bloody ladder!" The resentment of their differing treatment at the hands of their father came through strongly. Darcy could understand the sentiment, Richard battled for everything, often very grudgingly given, and had every indiscretion thrown back in his face whereas his brother was forgiven just about every failing and handed life on a platter. Another lesson of what not to do as a father of an heir and a spare.

"I suspect Grandmother will arrange the meeting. Heaven knows she's the only one the Earl will listen to about it. Have you told her your brother's back?"

"No. I came straight here. Should I?"

"I think you should. Otherwise I can send a note around."

"No. Don't bother, I'll go. Maybe I'll pop home and freshen up first."

"Very wise, you reek of horse."

"Very charitable of you, I don't think. Where are you off to? I might join you later."

"I'm taking the Trenthams off to the Billingtons' tonight."

Richard screwed up his face at the mention of Sir Billington. "Oh, I'll pass on that! See you mid-morning tomorrow." Said Richard cheerily and left in the same rapid manner he had arrived.

* * *

><p>The next day Richard arrived later than Darcy had expected, so he and Elizabeth were already well into the discussion as to who would say what regarding her own experiences as Sumerville would be in the room, at the meeting that must not be too far away. Darcy wanted to take most of it on his shoulders, but Elizabeth as equally adamant to do it herself. Even before Richard sat down, she had him side with her, agreeing that it would come across stronger if it was not second hand. Darcy found himself out numbered, and conceded, but felt he would rely on their Grandmother managing things, as she always did, and just hope that she would restrict his cousin from being too nasty.<p>

With that out of the way Richard was able to say he'd come from the Dowager Countess's residence, hence his being later than he had expected, to let them know that she'd managed to arrange the meeting at two o'clock today. So the rest of the morning was spent talking around the subject at hand, but not getting anywhere, as everything was well known and been articulated several times already.

After a cold luncheon, Darcy was impatient to head out, but a myriad of little delays meant they all climbed into the coach, although Richard rode, pretty much at the time they needed to do, not earlier as he had wanted. On arrival, after they let themselves in, Darcy asked if Elizabeth would go with Hannah, to keep the maid calm while waiting to be summonsed. Richard looked like he was about to say something, but when Elizabeth reluctantly agreed, Richard stayed silent. Darcy did wonder if, once again, he'd said something wrong. After watching the ladies being escorted by the Matlock Butler to the Yellow Parlour, Richard and he headed off in the other direction.

As they approached the Earls office, the pair of them overheard the Earl and the Dowager arguing, muffled by the closed doors. It was hard to follow as a result, but it was clear she was not happy with how the Earl been handling the situation up 'til now, and wanted him to promise to keep an open mind as there was some information he'd not heard before. Richard quip at that point 'More like he didn't want to hear' meant neither heard the Earl's reply. But they both clearly heard the Countess say, "…you will listen to Fitzwilliam or I'll just let it slip I was a spy for the French government, you know how old ladies forget themselves… Actually I think I still have the medal I was awarded in my jewellery box somewhere."

What was said after that was lost as Richard was looking at Darcy in complete astonishment, and then mouthed 'What? How?' Darcy obviously was unperturbed by what for him was now old news, but with hindsight, he realised he should have acted equally surprised. Since now the cat was out of the bag, all he could do was whisper back, "Err… best ask her about it, it is not a confidence I can share." Richard whispered back, "Can you at least tell me some of it?"

To discourage Richard from pestering him Darcy knocked on the door and then, after a short pause, opened it and announced himself and Richard. As they both entered the found both the Earl and his mother glaring at each other, colour raised. Oh dear, thought Darcy, his Uncle already looked like he was in a temper, exactly the start he'd didn't want. So maybe it was up to him to calm things down. So as to do so, Darcy made small talk for the first few minutes, while making a point of looking at the servants bringing in the refreshments, as if that was the reason for his circumspection.

Once they had all had tea (although Richard had helped himself to a generous measure of brandy instead) Darcy felt that the Earl had calmed down sufficiently to listen. Discovering that some of his uncle's agitation was due to his cousin failing to turn up when he was supposed to, Darcy asked maybe they could start without him. The Earl, reluctantly, agreed.

"Uncle. I realise that what I will tell or present to you might come as a surprise, but I feel that my cousin has not been entirely forthcoming in regard to this latest matter and his reluctance to front up today is not just the result of tardiness. I apologise in having vented my frustration at our impasse to my grandmother, but I felt I must enlist her aid, as this problem, if left to fester, will affect both mine and Georgiana's future as much as it does yours."

"Leave it be Fitzwilliam, it will go away," was the reply, "Sumerville does not appear worried, so why should we?"

Darcy glanced over to his Grandmother, she nodded, so he continued, "I realise you believe to have it all in hand, but I doubt you realise the lady's family will not let it rest, because it I am almost certain they are in the right. What I have learnt recently suggests that it very likely her version is correct, and I have proof that this is not the first time Viscount Sumerville has done something like this. "

"Go ahead present your 'evidence'. I'm all ears."

"In that case, Richard can you ask Hannah to come in?"

Richard nodded and left. While he was away, Darcy used the time to briefly inform the Earl of the number of maids Summverville had forced himself on, usually via blackmail, and the situations Darcy had found them in after he'd discarded them, and how he had bought one to London to tell of her situation directly to him.

The initial questioning proved difficult. Hannah was cowed into almost inaudibility by the Earl's presence, and often failed to understand Darcy's questions. In the end the Dowager took over, and in her usual manner, had Hannah feeling calmer and as a result more articulate in a short period of time. With appropriate questions as prompts, Hannah went on to explain. It started when she first started working here, as a number of the other maids made comment that she was too pretty to last and strongly suggested she find another situation, otherwise the fate of several other maids would befall her as well. But as she said, she chose not to listen as she needed the work and she was planning to marry one of the delivery boys, once he got promoted, so she would not be tempted. She did take one precaution by avoiding working upstairs alone, and some of the older maids helped by ensuring they were around where possible. But all her precautions came to naught, as one day when she thought she was safe Sumerville surprised her and used an accusation that she had stolen some of his items to ensure her compliance. Feeling she had no choice, Hannah went along with this, hoping that her fiancé would soon be promoted, and since Sumerville was not often home, he would not impose on her often. But when she came with child and presented the Viscount with the evidence of his deeds, it was then he made good his blackmail threat and promptly had her thrown from the house as a thief. By this time her pregnancy was all too apparent and her fiancé refused to take her in. That was why Darcy found her in the poorhouse but as she said, better the poorhouse than on the street selling her virtue. Having told her story, Darcy thanked her, and asked Richard if he could escort her back to the Yellow Parlour.

Darcy could see that the Earl was highly sceptical of Hannah's testimony, as was expected, but he felt the seeds of doubt had been sown. While Richard was gone, Darcy continued to raise doubt in his Uncle's mind. Sometime in this time Richard slipped back in and so was present when Darcy finally managed to get the Earl to admit that the reason for his scepticism was that Hannah was a servant, and the lower classes could not be trusted (although the Earl said that with a guilty glance towards the Countess)..

That lead to the obvious question, and Darcy asked it, "So the evidence of a gentlewoman imposed on in a similar manner, from the lady herself, would be more reliable, thus more believable?"

"I suppose, but does such a woman exist? And if she did, how could you find her?"

"That she exists is without doubt, and recent events led me to her. So Uncle, may I introduce Elizabeth Smith to you?"

"Certainly."

So Richard was once again sent off to bring back Elizabeth, while Darcy reminded the Earl of the 'Elizabeth' that he, Richard and Georgiana had met in Ramsgate, and had mentioned in letters from that time, which pre-dated the present trouble. Darcy made a point to mention that she was the widowed Mrs Smith several times, but also stressed her maiden name was Bennet. Thankfully his uncle did remember her, so Darcy went on to provide more detail on her father and his estate to establish Mr Bennet's gentry connections.

After Richard escorted Elizabeth in and the introductions were over, Darcy wordlessly checked she was coping, and got a fiercely defiant look in return. Darcy resisted the temptation to say 'Atta girl', knowing that would get him into trouble in a number of quarters. So instead he opened with, "Mrs Smith, maybe we could start with showing the Earl the paper that confirms the connection between you and my cousin."

Elizabeth agreed and as she stepped forward to pass the record of that wager to the Earl, Darcy stepped back and off towards his Grandmother, who whispered, "Is she up to the task?" Darcy nodded.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth felt extremely nervous but Darcy's look of concern for her, and just the reassurance of his presence, bought it down to a level she knew she could cope with. Fishing the offensive document from her reticule, she handed over to the stern middle aged man, probably the same age as her father.<p>

He read it and then, looking up and glaring at her, said, "So what is this?"

His reply just left her feeling indignant, the content was clear enough, "Well my Lord, I am the younger of the two Bennet sisters mentioned in that wager. So it shows is the way in which your son, someone that should act as an honourable gentleman, preyed on an innocent young girl's naivety. I freely admit I was very naive in trusting him, but my trust was betrayed in the most heinous of ways. My foolishness put me in his grasp, but he never seduced me as this suggests, I was not a willing participant in my own ruin."

"What do you mean? Of what are you accusing my son?"

"Of the same actions he is being charged with in his most recent exploits. He rendered me senseless, incapable of rational thought that night. I was barely aware of anything not long after meeting him that night until about the time he left, after ruining me. I was alone with his manservant to help me dress and get home. I was nothing to him, nothing than a way of winning a wager. And even he could not do that honestly. He had to trick me into it. I was not seduced, I did not surrender my virtue by choice, nor did I become incapable of refusing him just from drinking too much champagne, I am sure was something else in it, I've not tasted anything like what I was served that night, nor did I drink enough to render me that incapable in such a short time."

"Many a girl regrets in the cold light of day what they do the night before."

"Do you think I did not know of the effect of laying him would be? I was… I am a lady. Even at that age I knew the price to extract for my virtue. Your son had even hinted that marriage was a possibility while attempting to seduce my older sister. It was only when he could not get her to do anything untoward before a firm proposal was made did he swap attention to me. And then he played on my naïve stupidity to trick me into going that night. I was not in love with him. I did not go willing as a paramour but as a child in search of adventure. The proof of this is simple... Would a girl he seduced and still loved him cut him direct in front of everyone else only a week afterwards."

"What?"

Elizabeth was about to speak when Darcy's Grandmother chipped in, although directed at the Earl, "I remember that most vividly, even though it was five… no six years ago now. The whole ton was agog that a pair on nobodies would cut him, a Viscount. I always wondered by my grandson Henry had done to prompt it, given it is certain Henry must pulled strings to even have them invited to Lady Fenwick's ball so they should have been very grateful to him because of that. As their actions would have completely ruined the rest of their season, it was unfathomable, but now it makes sense. I think even you warned him at the time that his attention to an unsuitable lady was being noted and you expected him to marry someone better."

Elizabeth watched as the Earl sat through this in silence, before the Dowager turned towards her and asked, "So you are saying that my grandson, carried out a similar 'seduction' as he is accused of recently, and I use the word seduction in its broadest possible sense, by altering the wine you drank that night?"

"Yes."

So the Dowager continued, "I hate to ask, but it must be voiced… this was not a ruse on your part to marry into a higher station in life?"

"No. In fact, when my father insisted I name my daughter's father to force him to marry me, I refused to name your grandson specifically so that would not happen. But my father appeared to have worked it out as I believe he came here to plead my case at the time, not that I wanted him to. Thankfully he was unsuccessful."

"So Philip, do you remember a visit from a Mr Bennet? Or did he see only Henry?"

"I think there was some such meeting, but as it was some time ago I cannot recall much of the circumstances. Oh, only that he thought Sumerville had given her his carte-blanche and set her up in London somewhere." Elizabeth saw red, as was about to say something when the Earl continued, "Oh, and Sumerville denied he was the father, suggesting there may be other candidates."

That last made her blood boil, "How dare he! And you! To even repeat it! I know that your son is Amy-Jane's father."

The Earl made conciliatory gestures while trying to calm the situation by saying, "I am sorry. I didn't say I believed him. In fact I remember now I castigated him for even making the suggestion and made him apologise to your father after he said…"

* * *

><p>Darcy was about to intervene before his uncle made it worse by repeating any more of his cousin insults, when there was a knock on the door.<p>

Words were left unspoken. Everything stopped. They all turned to look towards the door to the hall, expecting to see the Viscount Sumerville making his appearance.

But it was just a very cowed looking footman that only partly entered the room, "My Lord, I know you said you were not to be disturbed, but Lord Fenwick insisted. His lordship says he has word of the Viscount."

"Well, don't just stand there, let him in." said the Earl testily.

"At once my Lord." The foot man bowed then disappeared. Only moments later the lanky frame of Lord Fenwick was ushered into the room.

Lord Fenwick made a leg at the Dowager, bowed to the Earl, and made the merest nod to Darcy and Richard. "Afternoon Matlock, Countess, Colonel, Mr Darcy? And…".

"Afternoon Fenwick. Ah you know Darcy, and this is Mrs Smith." The Earl made the introductions, while looking around for another.

"Mrs Smith, very pleased to meet you." Lord Fenwick made a deep leg to her. Darcy was not pleased with the way that Fenwick looked at Elizabeth, there was a lasciviousness there he found unsettling.

"Lord Fenwick." Elizabeth replied coolly, which made Darcy feel better.

Lord Fenwick cleared his throat, and addressed the Countess directly, "I came here as you were not at home my lady. It is about the matter you raised in your letter." As he gestured off towards an antechamber.

"Do not worry yourself about the others. All those here are in the know. Pray tell me Alexander, where is my grandson? I thought you capable, of all people, to ensure Henry's attendance."

"I am very sorry Ma'am, when I left him at his apartment last night, he assured me he would accompany me here today. But when I arrived this morning his man refused to let me in, saying his master was feeling unwell, and would not be going anywhere, under any circumstance. I remonstrated with Hatcher to no avail, and unless I wished to physically break down the door, I was unable to make headway. So rather to continue to make a scene arguing with a servant like a fishwife, I felt it best to come here and inform you of the fact. I hope this means my task is discharged? If it is…"

Darcy watched as his uncle's anger grew. "Like hell it's not!" Interjected the Earl, "You go right back to my son's apartment and tell that creature he employs, his wages are paid at my pleasure and that you are to gain entry to my son forthwith. As for my son, tell him… No I'll write it out, there's no need for you to have to do my dirty work. Damn! Where is that pen…?" The Earl started rifling his desk.

After that outburst, the room fell into an uneasy silence. Lord Fenwick did not look that pleased to be used as a messenger, and looked like he was about to say something, but the Dowager Countess caught his eye and nodded, so he stood there, in acceptance of the task yet undone.

Darcy took the opportunity to study his cousin's friend, looking to see if the dissolute lifestyle he lived showed on his countenance, but Fenwick looked no different than anyone his age. But while doing this, Darcy had an idea, something to help their case, but thought it best to wait

The Earl handed over the hastily written note, "Fenwick, once past his man, do whatever you need to do to get him to read it… I know… tell him it is to do with his next allowance… that is true enough."

"And I suppose every other allowance in the future… Given that he already suspects this might be the case, he may still refuse. Never underestimate the ability of some gentlemen to avoid learning of news they don't wish to know."

"Actually, in that case, tell him I hope he does not prove to be a coward, and not read it."

"That might just do it. Well, I'll be off then, if that is all?"

Seeing the opportunity present itself Darcy piped up, "Lord Fenwick, I am sorry to trouble you, but could you do something for me?"

Fenwick did not look happy, and replied, "What is it MR Darcy," clearly stressing their difference in status.

"Nothing really, I just wish you to confirm a signature." Darcy strode forward and picked up the wager. "Is this your signature?"

"Let me look." Lord Fenwick grabbed the page. "Yes that is mine. And before you ask, that is Sumerville's, and also Sir Thomas Whitby's, although he's signed it 'Tuffy', but that is still valid for a wager, here, both at the beginning and at the end confirming… ah, a wager regarding the seduction of a Miss Bennet being discharged. Now is that all?"

"Well, no. I am just curious about this line here, 'must be willing and conscious' is that a common condition of these sorts of wagers?"

"Of course not, but you knew that even without asking." said Lord Fenwick in annoyance.

"Sorry Lord Fenwick, maybe I was not clear. Let me restate it, was this condition a common requirement of wagers that involved my cousin, Sumerville?" Darcy noticed that his Uncle was paying particular attention to the byplay. Good.

Lord Fenwick paused in thought then appearing reluctant answered, "Hmmm… I cannot know how to answer it, this was the only wager of its type I was party to, but that is not to say there were not others. But if there were, I strongly suspect that Sir Whitby, knowing Sumerville as he did, would insist on it."

"Thank you Lord Fenwick for clearing that up for me. Sorry to delay you."

"No bother. And if there is nothing else, I'll go and discharge my duty." Lord Fenwick paused to see if that was it, before making a leg at the Countess and another to Elizabeth before bowing to the Earl, barely nodding at Darcy and Richard again and departing.

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><p>Once Lord Fenwick had gone the Earl turned to Darcy, "As I was saying, you put forward a compelling case, even Fenwick appears to support your position, but I will hear from Sumerville first. He may be able to provide something in his defence, although his non-appearance is not in his favour."<p>

Darcy felt like throttling his Uncle, what more proof did he need of his son's behaviour? He noticed that Elizabeth was looking pale but sitting with a rigid spine, and Darcy was concerned about having her submitted to the type of slurs and innuendo he knew his cousin was capable of, and his uncle had been about to voice. Then he realised they'd not actually presented the additional proof.

"Uncle, I think Elizabeth's daughter Amy-Jane's father is without question your son. And I have proof of that. But before I do so, can I ask, if Sumerville can be shown to be her daughter's father, will you accept the rest of her testimony as also being the truth?" Darcy looked over at the Earl, internally pleading that his uncle would see sense and agree.

The Earl's took some time before he answered, "Well… Yes… Yes Darcy, if you have proof, show it. I find her testimony to be fairly compelling already, and if he is proved the father I feel cannot but believe her version over his, as I remember he denied even the connection at the time. The if it is true, I will be interested to see what lies he tells this time."

Darcy was very relieved, as that admission by the Earl had the battle almost won, and would prevent Elizabeth from being subjected to any more prying into the events of that night. Reaching into his pocket Darcy pulled out both miniatures.

As he extended his arm, Darcy stated, "Uncle, Grandmother can confirm one of these miniatures is of Sumerville at age 6. The other is of Elizabeth Smith's daughter of a similar age, painted at the same time of Georgiana's portrait. It was done as a gift to show our appreciation for her care of Richard. He can confirm the date and accuracy of that one. All I need you to do is to tell me which one is your son."

"Easy. Hand them here."

Darcy chose to place them on the desk instead. "Can you not turn them over. Sumerville's one has the date on the back, which gives the game away."

"Ah. So…" said the Earl as he bent and looked closer. "It's this… no. Hmm…"

With an inward Yes! Darcy knew even if in the end the Earl chose the right one, it would be by luck, effectively proving his point. To increase the chance of his uncle getting the point he was making, Darcy decided to push it.

"Well, which is it? If they are totally unrelated, the differences would be obvious."

"Ah. Yes… well, as you say, can there be any better proof? I must say I am convinced. I'm sure I'd eventually work it out. I think, but cannot be certain it's this one... Something about the hair, it's shorter." The Earl picked up that one and turned it over, "Know let's see… what's the date on this one? Oh, that's odd, there's no date."

"In that case, turn over the other one. That will have a 1782 date."

The Earl did so, and with some surprise said, "So it does. I picked the wrong one didn't I?"

"Yes you did. Actually the only way I can tell them apart is still the hair, but for a different reason. You'll notice Elizabeth's hair is more auburn than our family's colouration, and her daughter has inherited that, but only that. The rest of her is Fitzwilliam through and through, right down to that half smile he… they have."

"Well I never… a feminine version of Henry. Do the other children have the similar traits?"

"To a lesser degree, although they all seem to have inherited the Fitzwilliam nose."

"Ah…" There was an awkward pause before his uncle said, "I suppose I will have to meet my grandchild sometime soon." Turning to Elizabeth he asked, "If that is alright with you?"

Darcy was thankful she was gracious enough to accept this peace offering, which led on to his Uncle and Grandmother asking questions about Amy-Jane, with the Dowager Countess possibly more eager than the Earl to learn of this addition to the family. And this was a subject that animated Elizabeth, and even Richard could contribute to, the mood of the room was lightened indeed. Darcy did note his uncle kept looking towards the doors, and became slowly more anxious as Sumerville took longer and longer to appear.

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><p>Elizabeth and the others were all chuckling at Richard's latest anecdote, about army life as a matter of fact, as the topics becoming broader as the afternoon wore on and his brother failed to materialise, when the Matlock Butler knocked and entered to inform the Earl his son was here. The Earl told him to send him up forthwith. As the butler left, the Earl turned to them all and stated that he would appreciate if he could question his son without interruption and, if they could not agree with that, he would ask them to leave. Elizabeth was reluctant, but as all the others consented, she agreed as well.<p>

The Earl shooed them off to one side of the room and then hurried to be behind his desk before his son entered. So as the Viscount arrived, Richard had propped himself on a side table in a corner of the room, Darcy took what Elizabeth started to recognise as his 'usual position' leaning up against the mantle, while she was sharing a chaise lounge off to one the side of the fireplace with the Dowager Countess

She watched as the Viscount Sumerville came in full of bluster, and in a cheery voice opened with, "So what is it Father? Not still harping on about this non-event."

"Yes and no Henry. Err… oh don't mind them…" The Earl pointed in their direction, "Your delay meant you've interrupted another matter. But they'll just have to wait until we are finished. You don't mind them being here do you?"

"No I suppose not. Good afternoon Grandmother, Colonel, Darcy," Darcy's name was said with a hint of scorn in his voice, then he turned to the Earl and asked, "Who's the lady?"

"Oh, that's… that's your Grandmothers, new companion, Mrs Smith." Well that was news to her, but Elizabeth was happy to go along with the pretence, for now.

"Ah…" The Viscount did not even bother to turn back towards her, but waved vaguely behind him in her general direction, "Greetings Mrs Smith. So what is it Father?"

"I understand your nature, and the temptation you pose to the maids of Matlock House, but I just wonder… you agree with me that the lower class woman do not have the same restraint as a lady?"

"To be sure."

"But you'd never resort to forcing or coercing them."

"Never had the need. As I've explained many times, they are only too happy to warm any bed, we al know that. It is only when they want to blame me for some footman's bastard that the problem starts."

"As you've said. So none of their children are yours?"

"No of course not."

"You're certain of this?"

"As best as I can be. I suspect they come on to me when they are already with child hoping to get an annuity out of you. Poor Darcy here gets drawn in by their sob stories, sign of his over-liberal attitudes, but thankfully you're no more fooled as I."

"That certainly can be the case. But gentlewomen don't put themselves in that position, do they?"

"Of course, as you have said many times, these sorts of animal urges stem from the poor breeding of the lower classes, the gentry do not succumb to it."

"So you agree that ladies are to be shown courtesy and respect?"

"Of course father, I am ever polite and honourable to ladies of suitable birth."

Elizabeth heard Richard snigger quietly behind her, but his brother did not hear or chose to ignore it, as the Earl continued.

"As I thought. So it was with some surprise I heard a rumour that this is not always the case."

"Come now Father, rumours swirl around like autumn leaves, and are generally as substantial."

From the side, Elizabeth saw how the Viscount was smiling broadly, seemingly enjoying this banter. She knew she'd promised to stay silent, but it was hard to sit here as the Earl was so easy on his offspring and his persistent cocky lies.

"And yet these rumours persist. So do you deny that you deliberately set out to ruin a gentleman's daughter for a wager?"

"Of course I will. I've done nothing of the sort. Who says otherwise?"

Elizabeth saw as the Earl hand the Viscount the record of the wager, while saying "Maybe this will remind you?" She'd had enough of this and sat forward about to say something when she felt a hand on her arm as the Dowager Countess restrained her while whispering, "Calm yourself dear, my son has this in hand." Elizabeth did as she was told and sat back again.

There was a nervous sounding laugh from the Viscount as he read, before he brightened once again and said. "Ah, this. It certainly was to appear that way. But I fooled them. It was really just an actress I was seeing at the time."

"An actress?"

"Yes. You know the breed, you must have had any number of them yourself."

"This is about you not me." The Earl retorted testily.

"But you have ladybird secreted away somewhere, we all do. Maybe she'll know of Francis Driver. Hey, wouldn't it be funny if she was your one now…"

"I'll have you know there's not been one since soon after I was married."

"Well, if you want me to believe that…"

"Henry! Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, of course not Father."

"Well…?"

"I apologise unreservedly. Anyway while the wager appeared to have been won, I fooled them with an actress. It was getting late in the season and their pestering me about it was getting tedious, so I planned a ruse to end it. Worked a treat too."

"So it appears. And I imagine her laying their almost completely unresponsive was part of the ruse as well."

With this the Viscount replied angrily, "Bloody Hatcher, if he's been…"

The Earl interrupted, "It was not Hatcher."

"I suppose it must have been that blasted Fenwick… He's certainly proved to be no friend of mine."

"It does not matter how I found out. But it is true she was almost totally unresponsive during the deed?"

"Well yes. Couldn't have her thrash around and say anything in her coarse voice and give the game away now could I?"

"So a little laudanum in the wine to help the authenticity then?"

"Yes., rather clever of…No of course not. As I said she was an actress, skilled at playing a part. We even rehearsed it any number of times beforehand."

"So you'd be happy if I told Sir Thomas he'd been duped?"

"I'd prefer you didn't, but it would be of little consequence. Surely he'd pay a little more attention to the terms of any future wager, but I suspect he'd have to admit he admired my audacity."

"I doubt it will come to that. Thank you for answering my questions so honestly, it is nice to have confirmation of the veracity of all these rumours… straight from the horse's mouth as it were."

"I am glad to be of service. Now I've cleared that up is there anything else?"

"One thing. Do you recognise this?" Elizabeth saw the Earl, quickly checking the backs of both miniatures, before handing one to his son.

The Viscount made only a feeble attempt to look at it before handing it back. "No, should I?"

"Surely you recognise your own image, this is the miniature your Grandmother has in her private parlour."

"Oh, is this it? Sorry, of course it is, recognise it anywhere, it is just I didn't expect it to be here."

"Good, yes it is that miniature…or is it? As what is this one then?" the Earl handed over the other miniature.

This set him back. He now looked much closer at both, even turning them over and back again. "I can only say this one is a copy, a very good copy… Although not perfect, there is a difference but I can't put my finger on it."

"Well that is where you are wrong. That one is you, but this one… this is of your daughter, only painted this year."

"No. Someone is bamming you. It's a copy… I don't have a daughter." Elizabeth was pleased to see the Viscount was looking a lot less confident than he was only a minute ago.

"No sorry, but yes you do. Her name is Amy-Jane."

"A daughter eh? Well, there you go, the day is full of surprises."

"And more to come… Don't you want to know the name of her mother?"

"I suppose I have no choice, you're going to tell me in an case. How much has it cost you to keep her silent?"

"Nothing to date. But that is not what is important, her mother's name is Mrs Elizabeth Smith, nee Bennet!"

With that, as the realisation dawned, the Viscount went deadly pale. His reaction was almost worth not getting to harangue him herself. Eventually, after looking over at her, and visibly recoiling from her glare, he turned back to his father, "Err… Mrs Smith, Grandmother companion Mrs Smith?"

"The very same."

"So you know…?"

"That everything you've said is a complete pack of lies? Yes! You appal me!"

"But Father!"

"Don't you 'but Father' me…" Elizabeth sat in amazement as the Earl verbally tore strips off his son for a good five minutes or more. The angered Earl was blunt, brutal even, and the words, despicable, coward and liar, appeared at frequent intervals. After he'd finished his dressing down, the Earl forced his son to tell exactly what happened that night, correcting him where his story ever differed from what she had told him. Then the Earl carried on with the situation surrounding the Matlock maids, with assistance requested from Darcy for the details. By the time the Earl reached the most recent incidence, the Viscount admitted everything, including owning up to drugging the poor girl beforehand.

While Elizabeth felt vindicated by the Earl's rant at his son, she felt sick hearing of the other ladies the Viscount had ruined by his behaviour. However, during this, the Dowager Countess took her hand, and was able to, on occasion, make comment that partly alleviated the pain of what she was hearing, or at the very least distract her so she did not hear the all of it.

Then once the Viscount had finished his confession, the Dowager Countess had Elizabeth assist her to feet and she, along with judicious pokes of her cane, started on the Viscount herself. She did not raise her voice, and it seemed to have greater effect as a result. Where the Earl was brutal, bludgeoning, she used words like rapiers, sharp, pointed and wounding. The Dowager was very inventive, rarely using the same word twice, swapping between English, French and what Elizabeth thought was probably Spanish, but could have been Italian. With a final "Bah, if I did not have to recognise you as a relative I wouldn't. So don't bother visiting if your Father ever lets you leave Cornwell." she turned and sat down, leaving the Viscount looking very much like he wanted to already be there.

* * *

><p>It was later that evening, back at Darcy House that Elizabeth had a chance to unwind and in doing so, realise just what had occurred after Amy-Jane's father was forced to confront his sins and sent packing to return to 'his estate' in Cornwall. Although Elizabeth discovered, it was his wife's, her father still owned it and she had total control over the purse strings. If it was anyone else, Elizabeth might have felt some pity for him, but she didn't. In fact she hoped he rotted there.<p>

Once the Viscount left the Earl made a fulsome apology for his son's sins against her, as the Viscount's own one, earlier, was grudgingly given. Then the Earl wanted to take Darcy aside to arrange some compensation to settle the matter but Darcy, checking with her first (that caused raised eyebrows) refused if Elizabeth was not included.

In the end, Darcy forced considerable concession from the Earl, in the form of a portion set aside for each child (while it was Elizabeth that insisted that the other children also get considered), to be paid over immediately to Darcy to manage. Darcy impressed her in the way he extracted far larger sums from the Earl than she thought possible, by playing on his prejudices. "But Uncle, that is a pitiful amount for even a natural child of noble father, don't you think?" In the end Amy-Jane's portion was double what Elizabeth's own father had put aside for her, and as Darcy assured her, if invested wisely, could be double that again by the time Amy-Jane married.

It was Darcy that insisted that Lady Sumerville be told about the other children, so forewarned, she would be forearmed. He also wanted the Earl to invite her to come to London and meet Elizabeth and Amy-Jane. Darcy's final act before they finished was to have the Earl to write an apology and explanation to Mr Bennet, for his sons offences towards him and his daughters. The afternoon was finished with Elizabeth being introduced to the Countess (still as the Dowager's companion, something she'd have to rectify at some point). The Earl's wife was all that was gracious and kind, and Elizabeth felt accepted, regardless of the oddity of the connection.

Considerably later, when Elizabeth finally met Lady Sumerville, she was very understandably very angry, but the anger was directed entirely at her husband, so they discovered that they were similar in many ways and developed a strong friendship that lasted the rest of their days.

Elizabeth went to bed that night, with the realisation that, although the events of today changed nothing about the past, it cleared the slate, and provided for a better future for everyone that lives had been blighted by that evil, evil man. With the same level of contemplation, Elizabeth also realised that Darcy and the Dowager Countess had conspired to have any anger directed at them, not her. So, while it would have been nice to have given the Viscount a piece of her mind as well, this way she was saved from being subject to the hurtful comments, however untrue, she could easily been subjected to. And in some ways, by not having these stated, and thus poisoning the mind of the Earl, it meant there was a possibility of a reasonable relationship between Amy-Jane and one set of her grandparents.

* * *

><p><strong>As you have just read the 'confrontation' chapter is much less confrontational than I expected it to come out, and probably for you as well. It was not planned this way, my plot outline had a much more abusive one sketched out. But as I wrote it out that way, it took a while to realise just why I didn't like what I had written each time, as I deleted huge chunks that either came out farcical or just plain 'yuck'. When, even as the author, you find what you've written disturbing, you know you can't publish it.<strong>

**So in the end I've concluded it is that I am too fond of Elizabeth to have written her being subjected to the sort of slurs and innuendo that Sumerville would say (and some of which I wrote and then deleted) had they gone toe to toe. The solution presented itself with the introduction of Lord Fenwick, and the rest wrote itself over last week. And in doing so I also realised Darcy is too much of a gentleman to put Elizabeth that much in harm's way, (even if she wanted to do it) thus the way he and his grandmother steered the meeting.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	63. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 13

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 13**

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><p><strong>Just when you thought it might never turn up, here it is. <strong>

**I'm sorry for the very long delay, so as an apology, here is a very long chapter.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>The sun was streaming through the window when Elizabeth awoke. Knowing she was late, she rushed her toilette and raced upstairs in a decidedly unladylike fashion, to find her daughter had finished breakfast and was sitting looking morose. Her mother's arrival immediately changed that expression to joy, which meant Elizabeth spent more time than she had recently as a way of making up for her tardy arrival.<p>

So it was as late as the first hour of the afternoon when Elizabeth, after leaving Amy-Jane fed and being put down for a midday nap, and grabbing a quick bite to eat for herself, went to see if Darcy was still in his office. Knocking on the door before entering, she found him, standing staring off into the distance. looking worried. As she took her seat, she quickly reassured him that only reason for missing seeing him this morning was that she's slept late, but it took some for him to accept this and it was not something he'd either done or not done. As she spent some time to calm him, Elizabeth noticed the fireplace was near overflowing with screwed up paper, an obvious sign of his state of mind this morning.

A casual comment about that, led Elizabeth to find out she'd missed the Colonel. He'd stayed about an hour earlier in the morning, before excusing himself. Darcy said he had wanted to stay longer but had to go because of a prior obligation and then off to visit various Militia, being well behind his schedule of recruiting replacements for the Peninsula Army. Elizabeth was unhappy she'd missed him, made worse to learn that he had suggested he'd be away for over a week and maybe more.

Then, after he'd talked around the subject for a minute or two, prompting Elizabeth to force him to come to the point, Darcy told her they both had been summoned to his grandmother, at three o'clock this afternoon. While it was something he felt he could not avoid, he didn't want her to think she was required to comply as he was.

Elizabeth laughed, "Of course I'll come. You are not the only one with demanding grandmothers. I remember Old Mrs Bennet would summon either Jane or I, the others were still too little, to get anything she wanted that was out of reach from her chair, even by just a few inches."

That lead to both relating more stories of their respective grandmothers, very similar in many respects. Neither Elizabeth or Darcy had first-hand experience of any of their grandfathers, all were deceased prior to their own arrival onto this world, or in the case of Elizabeth's maternal grandfather, just a few years afterwards. Similarly, both grew up with a grandmother living with them. For Darcy, it was the Dowager Countess, first during his mother long periods of illness and then to ensure there was a female presence at Pemberley after his mother passed away when Georgie was born. For Elizabeth it was also her Father's mother, and as with Darcy's experience, at times acting as 'mother' when Mrs Bennet took longer and longer to recover after each child.

By a natural progression, they moved on to talk of children, difficulties each set of parents had with the begetting of heirs (or lack thereof), or children at all. While this would be considered a totally unacceptable subject for an unmarried lady and gentleman to talk of, it seemed perfectly natural and easy for the two of them. So Darcy told of the unsuccessful pregnancies, firstly his two stillborn siblings, a boy and a girl, conceived before him, and then after, the miscarriages his mother suffered before finally bringing his sister to term, if born early. He told of learning of the despair and heartbreak these caused his parents when he read his Father's diaries after his father's passing.

Elizabeth told how her mother tried five times to provide her father an heir, producing the 'unwanted' girl each time. Kitty was very hard birth and the doctor advised against having more, but Mrs Bennet would not hear of it and soon after fell pregnant again, with Lydia's birth even more traumatic than Kitty's before her. Elizabeth had vivid memories of how close her mother came to dying, her and Jane summoned to what everyone thought was their mother's death bed. But when she recovered Elizabeth also recalled the many arguments between her parents. The complications caused by Lydia's arrival meant her mother would be highly unlikely to bring another to term and her father refused to allow her to try again. Thinking about it now, Elizabeth realised her parent's final estrangement stemmed from that time, although the seeds of it went back further.

But this was too depressing a subject to dwell on, so it was not long before they talked of the possibilities of their own children. Elizabeth thought it would be nice to have four, or five considering Amy-Jane, where Darcy made an off the cuff comment of wanting a dozen or more. While he said that with a cheeky grin, Elizabeth wanted to be certain they agreed on what was a subject vital to a marriage so she pushed, "You really want a dozen or more?" making sure her incredulity in his statement was plain to hear.

Now pushed Darcy expression changed in a moment and he replied morosely, "Well, in the end it is unlikely to be up to me, although an heir would be nice."

Elizabeth wasn't sure what he meant by this, did he have a problem? Did he not want children and made that comment to cover for it?

"What… what do you mean?" she asked with some trepidation of his answer.

Darcy sighed. "I just think it will be God's will if I have any children, given my family's history."

"What history?"

"I've just told you some of it. And look at my family tree. It's a tall poplar not a wide-spreading oak. Other than cousin Anne, who's down in Kent, and she's a sickly thing, you've met all my nearer relatives. If you go further back it is the same. Father was an only child, and his father only has a sister, with no children of her own."

"You have a sister. And as you said, you have cousins. I accept your parents appears to not have been blessed in this area, we are not your parents. I'm young and healthy and so are you. I see no problem here. Let's not count our misfortunes before they arrive…hmm…?"

Darcy continued to stare at the rug, "But what if it is me, my own family… weakness, that is the problem? Promise me you'll not take unnecessary risks to provide me an heir, if the doctors advise against it. I could not bear losing you like my father lost my mother or, from what it sounds like, what nearly happened to your mother as well."

Elizabeth continued in an up-beat tone, "Come now Darcy, I am certainly not your mother, nor am I just like mine. I had Amy-Jane with no difficulty, my mother's problems were apparent even with Jane and just continued from there. Isn't my past a better indication of our future than your or my parents?"

This seemed to reassure him, as he looked up without the melancholy that had overtaken him, "Very true. Amy-Jane… Yes, of course." Darcy expression changed to something more fervent, and said with real conviction. "No, no it doesn't matter at all. An heir would be nice, but if that blessing is not ours… as you say, however unlikely… it really doesn't matter…" his voice drifted off and he looked as if he was still working something out. Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking. She had no idea where this was going.

Then his face lit up with a smile, as he finished by saying, "No, all we need to do in that case is to ensure Amy-Jane marries well. And with the inducement of Pemberley as good part of her dowry I can't see that being a problem, can you?"

It was said with such finality as if it was carved in stone, Elizabeth wasn't sure quite what to reply so could only agree, "No I suppose it wouldn't. But it won't come to that. Don't worry, God has a way of giving us what we need."

Darcy smiled at her. "Thank you. It is just I worry, you see. Probably pointlessly…"

"Very pointlessly. There are enough real concerns to be worried about, like right now our visit to your grandmother. When was it again?"

"Three." Darcy's glanced up the clock behind her and back at her looking worried. "Err… Elizabeth, it's already a little after two, how quickly can you get ready?"

* * *

><p>As Darcy retied his cravat, for what he thought was the umpteenth time, in an increasing rush he wondered if he should call Steele or maybe succumb to the inevitable and get a gentleman's gentleman? Just about everyone else he knew had one, even Richard had O'Connor. It was at times like this that they would be a god-send, Darcy didn't like the idea of getting to the stage of being incapable of looking after his own toilette, given how often he had to ride off to deal with one crisis or another and have to drag them along with him. Most valets he knew were fastidious in the extreme, made them good at their job, but would they like his way of doing things? Maybe an ex-soldier would be up to it, someone like O'Connor. But would they then be too uncouth for polite society? Hmm… While he mused, his hands carried on and finished tying a barely passable Mathematical, the inattention actually meant a better cravat knot than his previous efforts.<p>

Darcy made a face and went to undo it, but realising the time, decided best leave well enough alone. Giving his coat a quick brush down, he donned it while he made his way downstairs. To his surprise Elizabeth and Amy-Jane were already there waiting for him.

"Ah… Sorry… Um, had a few issues with…" Darcy's hands fluttered in embarrassment towards his cravat.

"No problem. We've only just arrived." Elizabeth stepped closer and cocked her head to one side and then the other, before reaching up and adjusting his cravat. "There… That's better, now it sits more evenly."

Darcy felt a flush of warmth as he felt accidental delicate touches. In response he stammered "Th…th… thank you." Before a moment later, noticing how pretty Elizabeth was looking, and feeling like he should say something, added, "You look nice, something is different. Have you put up your hair?"

No, from her look, that was not the thing that was different. "Thank you good sir, but the hair is the same. Maybe it's the change in dress you've noticed?"

"Ah, yes… You're wearing a yellow one now." Darcy knew there was a more descriptive name for that specific colour but for the life of him, he couldn't remember it.

He got that look again. "As I was in the morning. But you are partly correct, as if I am more specific, this one is jonquil and the one this morning was evening primrose, but…" and then she laughed, "…that is to say, as far as you gentlemen are concerned, they are all yellow."

Feeling that to say more would just embarrass himself further, Darcy coughed and silently ushered the other two out the door to where the Darcy coach was waiting.

The change of scene allowed Darcy to regain his composure, and so Darcy was able to point out the sights as they went along. As he knew far more about London, or at least this part of London, than Elizabeth, the chatter in the coach was not in the slightest bit awkward, if a little silly, with there being a need to amuse Amy-Jane. Darcy still felt unprepared with including children in with the conversation, but as Elizabeth seemed to naturally involve her, he could not do otherwise. And, as he found, there was a charming freshness in seeing the familiar sights through the eyes of a child. Maybe when they were married, being forced off his horse an inside a coach during the regular journeys between Derbyshire and Town might not be as much of a chore as he imagined.

After they alighted, and Hatfield, eyes widening at the sight of the 5 year old but otherwise appeared unperturbed, informed them that the Dowager was in her private parlour. Darcy wondered how his grandmother would react, her summons did not specifically include Amy-Jane, but nor did it exclude her.

If his Grandmother was surprised by the addition to their party, she certainly didn't show it, as Hatfield had. After greeting Elizabeth and himself and allowing them to settle, she leant forward in her chair to address her great-granddaughter.

"Welcome child. I am the Dowager Countess of Mattlock."

Amy-Jane repeated, "Dowadjah Contess of Mattloch," making a fair imitation of his Grandmother's French accent.

"Yes, rather a mouthful, isn't it? And what's your name child?"

"Ami-Jane."

"That's a nice name."

"It's the best name. The first bit is from 'amor', that's Latin for love, and Mummy added Jane, for my Auntie. She's beautiful."

"I'm sure she is."

"But she only has yellow hair, not pretty brown like mine." Darcy watched as the young girl preened.

"It is a very pretty colour, just like your mother's. We call that colour auburn. Mine was the same when I was young, but that was a long time ago now." Darcy's grandmother said wistfully.

This led to Amy-Jane asking "Are you very old?"

Darcy heard Elizabeth exclaim "Amy-Jane!" while he coughed to try to cover for her embarrassing question, but the Dowager just laughed and replied "Oh yes, very old. I'm so old I'm turning eighty in just a few weeks."

Amy-Jane leant forward, eyes wide in astonishment, mouth open. Elizabeth looked at him with a worried expression. Darcy shrugged, not sure if he, or she, should intervene. He'd had very little experience with young children, or his Grandmother with them to be more specific.

"Here, Fitzwilliam help me up", said the dowager, holding out a hand, "I need to show this young miss a miniature of me at the same age as her mother."

Darcy stood with alacrity and, with Amy-Jane also helping, assisted his grandmother to her feet. The Dowager retained Amy-Jane's hand but dropped his. His Grandmother dismissed him and Elizabeth, who had also stood up, relying only on her cane and the child's help to walk over to a table on the other side of the parlour. Darcy stood there as perplexed as Elizabeth expression suggested she was too, not knowing what to do now. Should he offer to escort Elizabeth over to where her daughter was now? But he, or they, had been dismissed. Should he start a conversation? Maybe, but for the life of him he could not think of anything to say that would not be considered banal or trite.

Darcy looked over at his grandmother as he heard snatches of her explanations that accompanied each miniature and the giggles these provoked from Amy-Jane. Good lord! It sounded like she'd told that story about Richard that partly involved him as well! Quickly looking back at Elizabeth, Darcy was grateful it appeared at least she didn't appear to have overheard it. What was she going to say when she showed off the miniature of him, he was certain she'd just picked up? Darcy stepped forward to better hear.

Unfortunately, whatever it was he'd never know, because Hatfield chose that moment to arrive to let in the parlour maid carrying the tea tray.

"Tea my lady." Hatfield briefly addressed the empty chair, before quickly looking about, slight panic showing, until he sighted his mistress over in the far corner.

The Dowager Countess looked up, "Ah, Hatfield. I don't suppose they have finished upstairs?"

"I would doubt that is the case, my lady, I always thought there would be at least a day's work in it, but I can check." He went to leave.

"No, don't bother. I am sure you are right…" her voice drifted off.

"Yes, my lady. If you do not mind me making a suggestion, if the young miss' mother would allow it, I am sure the cook has a few titbits that would delight the child."

"Hatfield, you are a wonder." She replied, before addressing Amy-Jane, "go with Hatfield while I talk to your mother and my grandson. Do ask cook to give you a few of his desert pastries – they are just like I remember from the shop, just wonderful."

"Ooo, can I mummy?"

Darcy noticed Elizabeth only said yes reluctantly, and was now looking suspiciously at the Dowager Countess. He really hoped that there would not be a falling out between the two of them, as his Grandmother had the ability to cause Elizabeth considerable problems if she was antagonised. But thankfully Elizabeth said and did nothing as her daughter left. In turn his Grandmother ignored (she would not have failed to notice) Elizabeth's wariness, as they part took tea and a few of the cook's pastries that accompanied it. Abruptly, the Dowager put her cup to one side and without further ado, calmly stated, "So Fitzwilliam, what possessed you to risk Mrs Smith's reputation as you have done?"

Darcy was totally unprepared, "Huh, what…?"

"You honestly didn't think you could house a widow at Darcy House for any length of time and not have it be talked about? I am surprised that it is not already whispers on the wind."

"Errr, Elizabeth doesn't go out much at all… You know with her daughter and… all that…"

"She certainly seems to have been more sensible than you about it, but just because it is not yet being talked about, doesn't mean she won't be."

Darcy could see her point. While he tried to frame a reply, the Dowager continued, "I suppose it is up to me to ensure the right thing is done." Ignoring him, and turning towards Elizabeth she asked, "Mrs Smith, I know you don't know me, but I hope to correct that presently. Could you consider being my companion for the foreseeable future?"

"Before I do, what is this about my reputation? Who's been talking about me?" Elizabeth looked flushed from anger.

"Nothing dear. Thankfully. And I am trying to keep it that way." Grandmother turned and glared at him. "With no help from you. What you were thinking I really don't know. Good thing your mother isn't alive today to see this."

"But," Darcy retorted, "If my mother was still alive, then I wouldn't be alone with a widow at Darcy House now would I?"

"Don't twist my logic Fitzwilliam! You know what I mean. Anyway, Mrs Smith…"

"Call me Elizabeth."

"Why certainly, but only if you call me Vivienne."

"Oh, I couldn't Lady Matlock."

"If you are to be my companion, I won't accept anything else."

"I suppose, if you insist Lady Vivienne."

"Good. Good. In that case, best you move in immediately, now you are both here. Fitzwilliam, you'll need to go to arrange her things to be bought around and the daughter's as well. Hatfield has the staff clearing the schoolroom as we speak, just that as it hasn't been used for decades so it not finished yet. But he promised me it would be ready for tomorrow, which I admit is when I suspected you to take it up."

Darcy was as lost as Elizabeth looked.

"Lady Vivienne, I take what up?" asked a puzzled Elizabeth.

"Of being my companion of course. You accepted just before."

"I did?"

"Yes, I said you are to call me Vivienne if you are to be my companion, and so you have."

"I suppose I did. But to make it explicit, yes I accept. Sorry Darcy, but it is for the best."

Darcy felt like a child deprived of a favourite toy, but could see the logic of it, even if his heart felt her loss already. And she did apologise for accepting.

Darcy felt it best to put a brave face on it, and take a little control of the situation, "It is not a problem, as Grandmother said, it is for the best. Are you happy for me to arrange to have your things bought here? Or do you want to come back with me to pack?" Darcy hoped she'd want to come back, but to his disappointment Elizabeth replied, "No need. Bessie can pack what there is of it and Hannah will be able to help to collect all of Amy-Jane's things."

His Grandmother interrupted at this point, "I don't suppose you have anything suitable to wear here in London?" she sighed "…Something I will have to fix I suppose." That statement was accompanied by another glare his way. Totally uncalled for, he'd done what he could, and wasn't the dresses he'd arranged for her the height of fashion? The dressmaker in Lambton assured him they were.

"No not really. Mr Bingley, a friend of Darcy's arranged for a few dresses to be made up for my sister and I while we were staying in Pemberley."

"Did he now?"

"Yes, it's a long…ish story, I'll tell you about it later. But, needless to say, they are not Town fashion."

"No I suppose they wouldn't be, would they. Well that explains your reluctance to go out."

That was a shock to Darcy. Did Elizabeth feel she was trapped at Darcy House because she didn't have anything to wear? What else had he done wrong?

"Not exactly Lady Vivienne, but it… contributed."

"Well it is no longer a problem. This Bessie you mention, is she a good Abigail?"

"Yes, yes she is, I like her very much."

"Well, in that case… Fitzwilliam, make sure this Bessie is sent here as well, no need to force a change on you if that is unnecessary. Oh, if that is alright with you Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy initially felt a bit vexed, not content with stealing his lady, she was now taking his servants as well. But then again, if that is what Elizabeth wanted… "Certainly. Ah… maybe you might consider taking another as well, to assist with Amy-Jane."

"Oh yes, Hannah as well." Piped in Elizabeth.

"Err… Elizabeth… Um…" Hannah, whose daughter Lisa was not yet weaned, would not be his choice. Emma, who had helped out on occasion, would have been better.

"Is she not suitable Fitzwilliam?" asked the Dowager.

Darcy felt both sets of eyes on him. Elizabeth's expression meant he was glad he did not say what he was about to, but instead said, "Err… um… Hannah's daughter Lisa is… ah… Amy-Jane's… half-sister."

The look he got from Elizabeth meant Darcy realised his answer was not still what she wanted him to say. Damn, thought Darcy, I've put my foot in it. He was about to apologise, although not sure what he was apologising for when his Grandmother interjected, "So I'll have two great-granddaughters under my roof? Oh excellent. Definitely have her come too."

"Yes Grandmother." It looked like he had no choice with his servants as well.

"Well Fitzwilliam?"

"… Ah… Sorry Grandmother?"

"What are you still doing here? Off you go, I have much to talk of with Elizabeth."

Darcy knew when he'd been dismissed, and departed. With a final wistful look at his beloved, his tentative smile, when returned in full from Elizabeth, turned to a wide grin as he closed the door and headed back to the coach.

Rattling along the cobble streets, alone, Darcy wondered if he could have stopped what had just happened. While a number of unlikely scenarios came to mind, if he was honest, there was nothing he could've done, his Grandmother was as much a force of nature as anything else. Darcy could only hope that his sudden found devotion to his Grandmother would not be talked of too much.

* * *

><p>So Elizabeth found her situation changed again, in the matter of mere moments. It was not that she didn't want to be Lady Vivienne's companion; in fact, it appeared to be a very desirable situation, it was just the speed in which it happened. Oh, and if she was being truly honest with herself, her regret was entirely because she would no longer be in the same house as Darcy. But, of course, she could not admit that to anyone, even when she wrote the full description of the day in her very next letter to either Jane or Charlotte.<p>

Elizabeth initially found it hard to overcome her uneasiness with how easily she and her daughter were accepted into Lady Vivienne's life, and every hour of those first few days she expected a lecture of condemnation. The longer it went on without one, more wary she became of conversation with the Dowager, until the anticipation of the eventual confrontation was giving her tension headaches. On waking the forth morning, Elizabeth felt she just had to provoke one, if only to get it over and done with. But when she bought it to a head, rather than getting the censure as she expected, she learnt the of Lady Vivienne's own extraordinary history and what had seemed to be beyond human kindness now made sense.

That was not to say the next few weeks were all plain sailing. Lady Vivienne was not always the easiest person to live with (while privately thinking this was very good training if she did end up married to Darcy). She was, as could only be expected due to her age, very set in her ways, and at times rather too plain spoken. Elizabeth, certainly initially, feared that she'd be indiscrete about her own situation, but as earthy as the Lady was in private, or when with close friends, she maintained the fiction of Mr Smith and Elizabeth's respectability without fail.

It was also nice to have someone that respected her opinions almost as much as Darcy did. The Dowager provided background on her various visitors, where it was possible, as there were many more than normal, once it was known that she'd succumbed to the fate of all elderly ladies and procured a companion. Elizabeth didn't like being on show, but now properly attired, and having Lady Vivienne as a filter, so she only had to answer questions she wanted to answer, it was not that bad. And once the polite time for receiving visitors were over, Lady Vivienne seemed genuinely interested in her thoughts on the ladies she met.

It was also, as Lady Vivienne put it, good training for when, later Elizabeth would need to take her own place in the ton, having established credentials now, and made a start on friendships of her own, later it would then be easier. Elizabeth did wonder how Lady Vivienne could be so confident of that 'later', as she herself was still not confident Darcy would not begin to think rationally, and his and her dream of marriage would collapse under the weight of reality. Having met several of the London ladies that were said to be vying for his hand, (Lady Vivienne thought most were just sycophantic visitors, hoping that somehow getting in her good books would influence her grandson's decision), she could not think she could compete against their good looks, refined manner, connections and wealth.

Elizabeth accompanied Lady Vivienne a number of times to Matlock House. The first of these was a private family dinner and did not start well. Lady Sophie, was being spiteful, (in hindsight Elizabeth could see how she was probably just mistrustful of an interloper that appeared to be imposing herself on the family), and commented as they all sat 'If I'd realised my brother's nurse was to be invited, I'd not have turned down the invite to the Throckmorton's soiree', provoking a strong rebuke from the Earl. For the rest of the dinner, Lady Sophie sulked and muttered derogatory comments, pitch low so that Elizabeth would hear, but not to reach the other end of the table where the Earl sat. Elizabeth did her best to ignore these, but as she was already feeling nervous, it ruined any enjoyment of the occasion, or of seeing and talking to Darcy again, and made her seriously doubt her right to even be here.

As soon after the ladies withdrew after dinner the Countess made it her first task to apologise for her daughter's behaviour. As (thankfully) Lady Sophie had not joined them, both the Countess and Lady Vivienne made a point of including her in their conversation and they chatted as if they were all old friends, sharing funny stories of their various offspring.

When the gentlemen joined them, Darcy tried to monopolise her, but was prevented from doing so by the both older ladies, much to Elizabeth's disappointment. The gentlemen's entrance also heralded the return of Lady Sophie, who pestered Darcy about his lack of attention to Miss Trent. Had she not been a party to the charade, it would have been an amusing sight, Darcy chasing her attention, while trying desperately to remain aloof from his cousin's, while she was constantly being dragged away from him by the Countess and Lady Vivienne. Lady Sophie continued to make comments in praise of her friend Miss Trent, clearly designed to show Elizabeth in a worse light.

In the end the evening ended with Elizabeth feeling cheated, fearing that if this was going to be way her chances to talk with Darcy went, she'd have to resort to getting Bessie to deliver notes to Darcy House on the pretence of her having left something behind that Bessie had to collect, as a way of having any meaningful contact with him. Elizabeth was certain that Bessie would find the whole thing very romantic, but was just as certain that it would be common knowledge through both residences just as quickly. Bessie was an open book, both with what was happening with her (Bessie wore the willow for a groom in Darcy House, but he was ignoring her) and any of the gossip about the other servants.

Over the next week she talked more with the Earl than she did Darcy. It was not that Darcy didn't visit, it just that he only came when others were visiting, leaving him standing, aloof and withdrawn, off to one side, the crowds here to see Lady Vivienne's new companion clearly unsettling him. Elizabeth was disappointed to discover later that Darcy had tried to visit at other times but was turned away as the Dowager's butler told Darcy she was no longer receiving visitors for the rest of the day.

That never occurred with the Earl, but Elizabeth supposed that being the gentleman that paid the bills had privileges of its own, and he was another surprise, with the way this prim and proper nobleman got down to Amy-Jane's level and played with her. He appeared about noon every second or third day, choosing to come to the Dowager's home instead of his club, and shared his grand-daughter's fare while wedging himself under the child sized table in the schoolroom. When this happened the first time, Elizabeth looked very puzzled at Lady Vivienne. She just laughed, explaining that her son had always enjoyed spending time with his children, something she treasured from her own father and so had her daughter-in-law encourage in him. It was only later, as he gained responsibility at the War Ministry, did he no longer have the time to do so. Maybe that was when Henry (Henry? …Viscount Sumerville) went bad, Lady Vivienne mused. Elizabeth thought it best not to comment.

* * *

><p>For Darcy, Elizabeth's absence, however logical and reasonable, left a huge hole in his life and dramatically affected his piece of mind. He started second guessing his decisions if he wasn't able to discuss it with Elizabeth first. It became even more frustrating when his Grandmother's butler only allowed him to visit at the usual visiting hours, and then her parlour was filled with sycophants, the curious and gossipers. Or the rare occasion of it just being his Grandmother's friends. Even then, there was no way Darcy could take Elizabeth off to one side. Even if it was his most pressing desire just to ask her opinion of the latest development in Mr Neve and Mr Conchie's dispute over the lower paddocks. It had been her insight into the motivation of the two parties, pointing out after questioning him about things he didn't think mattered, but clearly did, that the whole thing was John Conchie's retaliation for Mr Neve's eldest son, Ben's pestering his daughter Gwen. With this known the rights and wrongs of it fell into place. But he still wanted her view on the solution he'd put to both tenants, and the mutually exclusive changes they had requested in reply.<p>

The one bit of good news for the week, well it was good news for Darcy and the family as a whole, came at meeting he had with his uncle at the Earl's club on Thursday. After they had sat and the first course served, all the Earl said was "It is done." His uncle looked as if he'd aged a year overnight, so there was no doubt what the Earl had done. Soon after he added, in a disgusted tone, "That I should have to grovel to a man like that on his behalf… Henry should be bloody grateful, but I doubt he is." Darcy expressed that he was very grateful and was sure Richard was too, but the Earl waved that away.

Later, over port, he looked Darcy straight in the eye and said, "I suppose now, after this little time has passed, I have to say thank you for you and Richard, both for finding Mrs Smith and her lovely daughter, but more so in your persistence trying to change a stubborn old fool who was too blind to see what was staring him in the face." Once he'd finished, the Earl dropped his head and stared with an unfocussed gaze into his glass. Darcy wondered what thoughts were going through his head, but whatever they were, they didn't look pleasant, so he made his excuses and left his Uncle to them.

It was after more than a week of seeing but barely talking to Elizabeth, either at the dinners held at Matlock House or being fobbed off by Hatfield that Darcy decided to force the issue. That he'd had a bad night's sleep, having, thankfully unremembered, nightmares, but ones that left him with the dread that somehow Elizabeth was slipping away, possibly didn't help. But whatever precipitated this, he pushed past the Dowager's butler and, with a stride considerable longer than Hatfield, raced up the stairs and burst into his grandmother's private parlour. Without even waiting for the expected pleasantries, he flatly demanded to get some time alone with Elizabeth. When the Dowager asked his reason, he replied he had come to rely on her good sense and needed her opinion on a number of Pemberley matters she had assisted with in the past. However unbelievable that was, Lady Vivienne relented with a laugh and a smile and allowed daily visits even when she was too tired and had refused all visitors.

Darcy's equilibrium was, mostly, restored when he got top spend time with his love. Grandmother generally dozed in chair in the same room, with Bessie sitting alongside her, while they sat off to one side and often, as it happened, discussed Pemberley or Darcy House matters. But that was along with everything else, almost as they had done in the past. But he knew they both felt constrained, what with others around (and he was never certain if Lady Vivienne was actually asleep or just able to adequately fake it), they never had the free and frank discussion they used to.

Darcy grew ever more jealous of other's call on Elizabeth's time, and this coloured his actions, and that it made things worse not better between them. He knew he should allow her time to court her properly, but was mindful that any public activity was far more likely to deleterious to Elizabeth's reputation than he'd gain in the short term in doing so. But could tell that he was losing ground with her now by protecting her reputation for later when they were finally married. The constraints the ton placed on people in their situation made Darcy wonder not why a few young couples eloped, but why more didn't. He knew he'd have to do something when he started working out how long it would take for them to get to Gretna Green… Although in their case they'd not have to worry about pursuing relatives!

* * *

><p>There was an answer to his dilemma; it started when Darcy, having just started reading his morning correspondence, opened a letter from Bingley. Having read a full page on how wonderful Jane was, interspersed with a little of what Bingley had been doing recently (Darcy hoped his letters weren't as bad, but probably were) Bingley started the other side with the following:<p>

…

_I now come to the point where I must apologise, as I have well and truly let the cat out of the bag. To explain; as I have said in previous letters I struggle at times to keep my equanimity around my future mother-in-law. The worst of it is when she talks about how well all four of her daughters are getting on as I know this upsets my dear Jane so very much. Because as Jane puts it 'Mother treats Elizabeth as if she was never born, which is worse than her just being dead'. I am sorry to relate this, but as I had received your last letter the day before yesterday, informing me of Mrs Smith's new situation I felt I had to interject when she did again, pointing out to Mrs Bennet I had recently learnt that her fifth daughter, the widowed Mrs Elizabeth Smith, was now a companion of the Dowager Countess of Matlock._

_Of course, once I had I said that and the ramifications of this had sunk in, Mrs Bennet starts caterwauling about how 'her ungrateful daughter Elizabeth refuses to communicate with her own flesh and blood' and many more words to that effect. I will not inflict on you the pain I felt in hearing this balderdash__by making a written record of her full five minute diatribe, but it ended with her both taking the credit for her daughter landing this plum position while berating her for not telling her about doing so earlier._

_Having learnt of this last night, Mrs Bennet spent this morning visiting the few neighbours that still pay host to her, undoubtedly to make the most of Elizabeth's noble connection, she came back and asked for Elizabeth's direction, for she says 'I must write her a letter of congratulations, but must instruct her to come back home straight away. She has spent far too long away from her loving family, stubborn child!' Can you believe it? Anyway, as I don't know where Elizabeth is residing, I've given her your address (although leaving off that it was Darcy House, of course). I tell you this in case she is true to her word and does actually write to Elizabeth. While I respect your honesty, I think it best if you forego your usual scruples and read it yourself before passing it on, just in case it still contains any of the hurtful sentiments she was well known to write in the past. I'd suggest a very thin sharp knife, heated over a flame, but wiped first on an old handkerchief so that you don't leave tell-tale soot marks on the page or wax._

…

The letter carried on, but Darcy put it down to finish later while he searched through the rest of his correspondence for another letter from Hertfordshire, but to no avail. After checking again, he rang for Steele. When his butler arrived, Darcy asked "Steele, has any letters come for Mrs Elizabeth Smith this morning?"

Steele replied, "Yes, sir two arrived this morning. I was about to send a footman to the Dowager Countess as per your instructions."

Excellent thought Darcy, maybe I've caught it in time, "In that case Steele could you have them bought up here?"

"Certainly sir, I'll get on to it straight away. Will that be the case from now on, sir?"

"Yes Steele, something has come up, which means I will need to check for any letters to her before you pass them on."

Steele acknowledged this with "As you will sir" and left.

When Steele returned he handed over both, stating the first was from Mrs Carter in Lambton and the second was from a Mrs Bennet from Longbourn in Hertfordshire. Thanking Steele, Darcy picked up the second and placed it, seal up on his desk. He'd even got as far as heating the knife but he couldn't do it. Putting the knife down, Darcy left the rest of the correspondence for later and rising, put Mrs Bennet's and Mrs Carter's letter in his pocket, before pausing to picking up Bingley's letter and adding it to the other two and left his office.

Arriving at the Dowager's residence after a brisk walk, Darcy was let in by a still wary Hatfield. Grandmother's butler made a point of escorting Darcy to the drawing room and leaving him there before going off to see if Mrs Smith was free. Elizabeth entered soon after, flushed from running with a look of mild panic on her face. Darcy kicked himself for not giving a message to pass on to her to explain his uncharacteristically early arrival. He could see Hatfield on the other side of the open door, but stationed far enough away to give them privacy.

Hurrying to reassure her, Darcy explained that he was sorry to arrive so early, but he received a few letters this morning that needed her urgent opinion but no there is nothing to be concerned about as he took the letters from his pocket. Sorting them first, Darcy tucked Mrs Carter's letter back in his pocket, he asked her to sit. Once she had done so he found Bingley's letter and, presenting it second page outwards, asked her to read it, explaining this would explain why he'd come.

Darcy watched as Elizabeth read what Bingley had written, a range of emotions crossing her face before she handed it back.

"So did she write?"

"Yes."

"Well, what did she say?"

"I am sorry I don't know. I didn't open it." He held it out, but did not hand it over just yet, " Do you want me to read it first?"

Elizabeth sat back in her chair. After some time she sat up again and took the letter. "No. Thank you for the offer, but even if you read it and say it isn't suitable, I'd still have to read it anyway, so..." she sighed, "best get this over with..."

Darcy watched as Elizabeth read through the short letter with the occasional "Hah!". With a final "Good Lord, does she think I'm that stupid?" and a sardonic laugh she looked up, her face a mix of pain and hope, "It appears now I am a prodigal son or, in my case, the prodigal daughter. Now I have a connection to a Countess, all is forgiven and Mother wants me to come home. Can you believe it?"

"No, not really, but that is what Bingley hinted it would say. Do you believe your mother can completely switch tack like that? As if everything that happened, for so many years, can just be forgotten. I'm not sure it's possible, but Bingley has written she was the same when Jane arrived."

"That is true. Both Charlotte and Jane write that Mother treats Jane just like she did before... before it all went wrong. Could it be the same for me?"

"I really can't say Elizabeth. Although I hope for your sake it is."

"So what should I do? Should I go?" Elizabeth said, her voice full of emotion.

"I don't think my opinion in this matters, my dear. You will have to decide this for yourself."

"I know, but... I'd love this to be genuine, but what if it is not? What if it is just to get an opportunity to twist the knife again? If it was you, what would you do?" Elizabeth was pleading now.

"I honestly don't know, and it is not for me to say in any case."

That just made her angry. "You're no help." she retorted.

"I'm sorry, but you know your mother, I don't. All I can say is, if you do go, I will be there alongside you for however long you need me to be."

"If I go, you'd come with me? Put up with Mother and the cramped confines of Longbourn?"

"Of course I would. Anywhere without you is like purgatory."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes. I do. I love you Elizabeth. It has been many months since your light has eclipsed my heart."

"You do realise that's an appalling metaphor. Dark objects eclipse light, not the other way around."

"See. Your very presence makes me lose my rationality." Darcy said with a cheeky smile.

Elizabeth laughed, "Oh get away with you! Next you'll comparing my brown eyes to a summer sky, like some love-sick moon-calf."

"If I do, I give you advance permission to mock me for it."

"Do you think I need your permission?"

"No, but I'll give you it anyway."

"Do you always try and get the last word?"

Darcy was sensible enough to know that question should not be answered, so said nothing. They both sat in silence for a while before Elizabeth spoke again. "I suppose I'm going. If I don't, I'll always rue the day I let the chance at reconciliation pass me by." With that decided, they both discussed, the when, how, who, etc. and most importantly then what they'd tell his Grandmother.

When Darcy finally left much later that morning, to make arrangements for their departure tomorrow (having convinced Elizabeth that if you are going to do it, best strike while the iron is hot), he realised that they were going to be together in the same house again and he wouldn't need to share her time with anyone. Better still, he and Bingley could take their respective ladies for long walks, and in that way, chaperon each other!

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was nervous and didn't like it. She knew why she was nervous, there was even a very good reason for it, for it was not every day that you meet an estranged parent, but that didn't make it any better. She smiled weakly at the only other person awake in the coach as the not quite so familiar, but well remembered sights of Meryton disappeared behind them. Darcy smiled back and reached out to reassure her, but was prevented from doing more than patting her knee, his deep concern for her shining from his eyes. Elizabeth reached out and grasped his outstretched hand, and drew on his comforting warmth and strength. So in that awkward pose for both of them, Elizabeth thought back on everything that happened in this trip to focus on something else than the impending meeting.<p>

They had started early, if slightly delayed waiting for Bessie to arrive, while Amy-Jane took to fidgeting and fussing. When, in exasperation, Darcy tapped on the roof to get Wilkins attention, to tell him to hop down and see why it was taking Bessie so long they were informed she was sitting up top with him, and had been there for some time. Bessie yelled down that travelling inside made her feel sick so she always travelled on top. Darcy asked 'Even on the stage? All the way from Pemberley? even when the weathers bad?' to get told 'she done it before' in answer to all of these. In the end Darcy shrugged his shoulders and looked at her for a suggestion on what to do. Elizabeth thought with Amy-Jane in the cabin with them, it would not be a problem and said so. So with that decided, Darcy rapped his cane on the roof and they set off.

The first part of the trip was spent keeping Amy-Jane amused, something that took their full attention. It was after an early stop and a light lunch when, sitting on Darcy's lap to see out of the window properly as he pointed out and named each type of cow, sheep or other domestic animal, Amy-Jane fell asleep on his shoulder. Elizabeth offered to take her off him, but he said it was best to leave her sleep, he was happy the way things were. So other than drape a blanket over the young girl, Elizabeth left them as they were.

With her daughter now asleep, Elizabeth resigned herself to looking out the window to pass the time, but Darcy, discovering that if he spoke in low tones he did not wake Amy-Jane was happy to talk.

And talk they did, initially on general topics, but soon moved on to more personal matters.

Elizabeth learnt a lot of the person she hoped to marry that trip; how he worried about Georgiana, was he doing everything he could with his care for her now and his concern for her future happiness; he spoke of his own reticence around new people, and how he worried that was the reason for his sister's shyness as well; he talked of his struggles with, at times seeming to him almost insurmountable, the responsibilities of a landowner and master; then of what he'd recently learnt from her example or what Richard said to him about dealing with those within his charge; he shared his uncertainty if the changes he was making to Pemberley were improving the prospects for their future or making them worse, and even in more general terms, whether he would live up to the legacy of his Father and Grandfather; then there was he need manage the conflicting expectations of his wider family, as an example he warned of how his Aunt, Lady Catherine de Bough had the completely unfounded opinion that he was going to marry her daughter Anne, making specific mention that he only bought it up as Lady Catherine would be difficult and he was sure they would have to deal with her at later date.

As he opened his heart and thoughts to her, Elizabeth could only reciprocate in kind; she was able to speak of her own worries about her daughter; was she being a good mother, could Amy-Jane be happy with her restricted life and prospects, or the lack of contact with her extended family; she also shared what actually happened from the time of her loss of virtue to arriving in Ramsgate and Mrs Carter, all the lows that estrangement from her parents bought and the few highs, expressing the joy a mother knows from holding her child for the first time and the consistency of Jane and Charlotte; when speaking of Ramsgate, she mentioned a few stories of those first few years and how hard they were, while at the same time reading of how badly Jane was being treated back in Longbourn as she sat by impotent, with Jane making light of it, only Charlotte told of what was really happening; then there was mention of the way men, and initially for her, the surprise that this included gentlemen, treated her as if she would naturally be joining the demimonde, and made offers of being her protector in that light (in saying this, Elizabeth realised it was a good thing Darcy was trapped by a sleeping child, he looked at that point ready to leap out of the coach and run directly to London or Ramsgate forthwith), when he pressed her for names, Elizabeth fobbed him off by saying she never bothered to remember them, (but lesson learnt, Elizabeth realised it would be best to never to bring that subject up again).

That led to her mentioning how it was not all bad, she would miss all those that were kind to her, to which Darcy offered to take her to Ramsgate at any time she wished. It was a very sweet gesture, but as much as Elizabeth would have liked to have seen Mrs Hughes, Mr Hawker and others again, it would not be sensible, given the pain she knew it would cause him. Amy-Jane and Darcy did not deserve to have that part of her past rekindled, it needed to remain forever behind her. The Lord only knew what troubles they would have without that intruding.

So, in thanking him for his kind offer, she let him know her time as a fallen woman had to stay behind her, something she had accepted. That led to Darcy apologising for how similarly to the others he treated her at the time, how his unwarranted prejudice stemmed from a misplaced sense of pride, that he was better than her, without ever having to face the decisions she had done. Elizabeth returned the gesture apologising for thinking he was as immoral as those that she encountered elsewhere, because of her misimpressions. When he asked, looking very worried, how he could have even given rise to misimpressions, Elizabeth talked of how her misunderstanding of his actions (such as the inn to London), or of overhearing Lady Sophie gossiping with Miss Trent came about, and also how each, in turn, were shown to be false. They were laughing about this when the coach drove through Meryton, and the sudden jarring of seeing the place sobered her up.

Realising this bought her back to the present, Elizabeth's nervousness returned with a vengeance. Thankfully it did not last long as the coach soon stopped. They were still holding hands when she felt the coach wobble as the two on the top hopped off. Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, with a final squeeze from Darcy, they let go and she adjusted herself while Darcy woke Amy-Jane so as to appear more seemly for when Wilkins would open the door in a moment or so.

* * *

><p>As she prepared for bed the night of her arrival, ending with her sharing a room with Jane for the first time in years, Elizabeth tried to get her head around the dramatic day that had just gone. Jane was still downstairs, but Elizabeth escaped as soon as she could, having settled Amy-Jane first, then coming straight here, the throbbing headache allowing for nothing else.<p>

Her Mother's change of heart, as a complete turnaround, was unsettling to say the least. Elizabeth kept expecting the sting of rejection. But it seems, being the respectable Mrs Smith, (her Mother was entirely uninterested in who her husband is/was, just that he had existed) and also companion to a Dowager Countess, Mrs Bennet made a point of mentioning (whenever possible) her Grandson, Colonel Fitzwilliam, had stayed for supper several times while passing through, and only just recently, too, erased any and all 'minor indiscretions in her Lizzie's past' (as she put it). In equal measure Mrs Bennet, 'call me Grandma', doted on Amy-Jane, although this was with the proviso 'she was far too young to be a grandmother'. Amy-Jane was as wary as Elizabeth at first, but having been fed sweets and indulged with anything she wanted, by the end of the day was firmly converted.

Meeting Kitty, no sorry Catherine, was wonderful. There was so much to catch up on. Elizabeth was looking forward to being able to talk more in the days ahead, they had barely scratched the surface today. Mary, well Mary was still Mary, just… more so. Her strict Methodist home life now meant her earlier propensity for quoting scriptures or religious tracts was magnified a hundred-fold. Elizabeth did wonder if anything other than the perfunctory greeting was her own words, it all sounded as if she spoke only by way of quotation. Lydia could be excused for today, as she was still young. Having one sister, Jane, come and supplant her was bad enough, now with her own arrival doing it again, Elizabeth could see where the jealousy came from, but the comments hurt all the same. The biggest surprise was that Mother rebuked Lydia in public, so most of the time, Lydia sulked quietly, well except for the times she bemoaned the fact she was not allowed to go to Brighton, even though 'she was especially invited by Mrs Forster as her particular favourite'. Elizabeth thought maybe she could use her sudden elevation in her Mother's eyes to assist her youngest sister, that is until she found out why Lydia wanted to go, it was not Mrs Forster that was the attraction, it was the Militia Officer's and a Mr Denny in particular that drew her there. Given the Bennets' had only partly recovered from her scandal, Elizabeth was in no mind to give her younger sister the possibility of causing one of her own.

Of Longbourn itself, the years away had not been kind to the building or the grounds. This was understandable as only Mr Denisham and his lad Daniel had remained as outside help, and Mrs Hill and her daughter Claire were left to cope on their own inside with, as Elizabeth found out later, Charlotte or Mrs Gardiner assisting with menial tasks that otherwise would not have been done, but with no recognition of this help from Mrs Bennet. As soon as she found out the situation Elizabeth instructed Bessie that her duties were to help out Mrs Hill, not just herself. While not expecting resistance, the enthusiasm Bessie showed towards the chance of being helpful in a more general way was heart-warming.

As a whole her Uncle and Aunt appeared to be happy here, helping with Jane's courtship and wedding preparations, even with the lack of respect shown to them by her parents. The Gardiner children enjoyed the freedom to run and play afforded by the country life, sadly not possible were they lived in London. Elizabeth did wonder if that was the main reason why they stayed. But it was nice to have Aunt Gardiner there, with her ability to say just the right thing to side-track her Mother at the height of her excesses, providing a god-send any number of times.

It was also the day she met Mr Collins in person. Although she had learned much of him via letters, Elizabeth was prepared to give him a chance, as she thought no one could be as bad as he was described. But he was as pompous and idiotic in real life as in the anecdotes they penned. Elizabeth attributed a good deal of her headache to that specific gentleman. Oh! When he found out that Darcy was 'his patroness, the Lady Catherine de Bough's nephew, who was promised to her very daughter, Anne de Bough' she thought the annoying little man would burst, just from being in the same room as him. It was, quite frankly, incredibly embarrassing the way he fawned all over Darcy, and she didn't blame him for appearing more aloof and maybe even a little arrogant than normal because of it, even if it did mean he made less than a good impression. But for once Darcy's reluctance to meet new people proved useful. When he arrived, Mother eyed him up and calculated his worth (to the nearest thousand pounds per year) and started the afternoon trying to set him up as a possible match for Lydia (first choice) or Catherine (when he obviously found Lydia tedious). But his manner and then the discovery that he was already betrothed (something Elizabeth noticed he did not try to correct, so she chose to stay silent as well) meant Mother would only tolerated him for his friendship with Mr Bingley and for bringing her 'long lost daughter' to Longbourn. She dearly wanted to do or say something to help, but as the lady of the moment, she had no time to be alone with him. At least that would sort itself out before long. And Jane and her Mr Bingley were so wrapped up in themselves that there was little point in talking with Jane, she would only provide half of her attention to anyone that was not her fiancé.

Charlotte kept to herself, there was no opportunity to do much more than greet each other. Mr Collins paid her a good deal of attention and Charlotte seemed happy to accept it, if not specifically provoking it. This was saddening to see. Elizabeth had hoped very much that Richard would follow his heart, but it hadn't happened. She tried to look at Mr Collins with Charlotte's sensibility and, if she squinted really hard, she could see the possibility and, as Charlotte said, she only wanted a husband she could mould into something acceptable, there was a large lump of very squishy clay to start from!

While Elizabeth wanted to stay up for Jane's arrival, she was too tired and as her head was throbbing, she bowed to the inevitable, blew out the candle and snuggled into the familiar scents of home. As much the events of today contributed to the way she felt, the biggest of these was that her Father had categorically refused to see her or Amy-Jane. Charlotte and Mr Collins both had let her know that they tried (although how much effort Mr Collins would have put in was anyone's guess, but Elizabeth was sure Charlotte would have tried her best), but both were rebuffed. While Elizabeth knew it was silly to have expected it, a small part of her had hoped that it was not just her Mother that wanted the reconciliation. Silent sobs of a Father irretrievably lost accompanied Elizabeth as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Darcy thought the first afternoon and evening went as well as can be expected, Elizabeth's mother was an… interesting… lady. She certainly was as opinionated (and as often wrong) as his aunt Lady Catherine. At first he had tried to intervene when he noticed Elizabeth was feeling the effects of her mother a bit too much but was generally spoken over or ignored, and with all the new people he felt rather overwhelmed by the experience himself. In the end, he would have liked to have been more help to Elizabeth, and told her so when they went for a long walk with Bingley and Jane this morning. She was all that was gracious and kind, excusing his behaviour as understandable in the circumstances.<p>

It was times like this, where Elizabeth was going off without him again, she even suggested he'd not enjoy 'traipsing around the neighbourhood, as I met with old acquaintances' that he wished he had Bingley or Richard's easy manner with people. But Darcy got the hint and did as he was told (and his inclinations predisposed himself to desire) so stayed behind. It didn't help his present mood however, to accidently overhear his future mother-in-law, say 'good, he should keep his dour expression to himself' as the Bennet girls left with her. Thankfully he heard both Elizabeth and Jane both defend him and Bingley, who was also staying behind, as they accompanied their mother out the door.

With not being able to help with her mother, in fact the less he had to deal with her the better as far as he was concerned. Actually Mrs Gardiner was a great help in that regard, and Darcy wondered if it would be the height of impertinence to talk to her about the way Elizabeth found Mrs Bennet, and in the end decided he'd talk to Elizabeth about it first.

While generally being all at sea where ladies were concerned, even he could not miss the way Elizabeth occasionally glanced up toward the upper floor where her father was still confined to bed, and the sad expression that bought on, Darcy wondered what he could do for her on that score. After talking with Bingley and Mr Gardiner about their impression of Mr Bennet, to learn it was their opinion he was malingering, and had deliberately ignored their overtures of friendship, Darcy walked off into the gardens. They were very poorly maintained, although with only 2 gardeners, that was no surprise, but to their credit they did keep up the generous sized vegetable gardens, so it was likely not much time to do any more.

After this time to himself, Darcy knew what he had to do. He walked inside, up the stairs into his room. After retrieving the letter from Sumerville, he went and knocked on Mr Bennet's door.

"What is it!"

"Good afternoon to you Mr Bennet, may I introduce myself?"

"No, now go away!"

"Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire at your service. You have hosted my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam several times."

"Never met him or you. Go away and leave a dying man in peace."

"Of course we have never met, otherwise I would not…" Darcy paused as the door opened and Charlotte came out. "Just go in." She whispered, "Everyone else has to." Darcy shook his head, for this to work Mr Bennet had to ask him to come in. "…as I was saying, otherwise I would not have to introduce myself."

"Just go away!"

"Are you sure? I am desirable of the acquaintance."

"And I am not. Leave."

"In that case I am sorry to have bothered you. Good day sir."

Darcy moved away from the door, not expecting a reply, nor did he get one, and walked down to his room. Picking up a chair and the book he was reading, he quietly placed the chair alongside the door and started to read. When Charlotte was returning up the stairs, he put his finger to his lips, but said nothing. She got the hint, as she entered the room and made no mention of him.

Charlotte exited a little later, about 3 pages later. Once she had gone downstairs, Darcy knock on Mr Bennet's door again.

"What?"

"Good afternoon to you Mr Bennet, may I …

… to proceeded in a similar manner as before …

…well, good day to you sir."

And Darcy sat back to read more. At the end of a chapter Darcy stood and knocked again …

… to be rebuffed, that time, and again…. and again… and again… until Darcy heard the ladies return. Making a strategic withdrawal, not admitting defeat, he put his chair back and went downstairs to meet them.

* * *

><p>The next morning had Darcy enjoying taking another of Elizabeth's only partly remembered rambles through the local countryside (they only got 'lost' twice), with Bingley and Jane following. It was only midway through the morning when they had to make a run for it, the light clouds present when they set out had thickened to the point a light drizzle had started. In the end Darcy and Bingley got considerably wetter than their partners, as they had to lend their coats to the ladies for the final stretch when the drizzle turned to rain, increasingly heavy as they got closer to Longbourn. But it was not a problem, given the way they were all laughing as they all bundled into the portico. Darcy hoped he did not look too undignified, as his wet shirt clung to his body like a second skin, but feared he must have looked just like Bingley did, a veritable drowned rat. But, at least their ladies were spared the worst of it under their borrowed coats, only their hair was the worst for wear.<p>

The rest of the morning was spent inside. It was after lunch when, as Darcy tried to work out what he could say to Elizabeth as he wanted to keep working on gaining access to Mr Bennet, she solved the problem for him; asking if he'd mind if she spent some time with Amy-Jane first and then catch up with Charlotte when her daughter was asleep. When he said it was no problem, he had plans of his own, only asking that she stay in the house where he could find her if needed. For all she pestered him to tell of his plans, he would only say it was a surprise.

When finally alone, he went back upstairs, this time preparing the chair before knocking on Mr Bennet's door.

"Who's there?"

"Good afternoon Mr Bennet, may I introduce myself?"

"Oh. You again. Go away!"

…

And again every new chapter…

…

Knock, knock….

…

He'd managed to get three chapters before the response changed.

"How long will you keep this up?"

"Well, I'm only partway through this book, and I bought several."

"Alright, I give up! You might as well come in."

"Thank you." Darcy said as he entered. The figure sitting up in bed looked drawn and frail, but in no manner was he a dying man. "Mr Bennet I presume."

"Of course I am, who the hell else would it be. And you are Mr bloody Darcy, from bloody Derbyshire!"

"In bloody person. Pleased to meet you."

"I doubt that. Are they all as rude as you in Derbyshire?"

That was rich coming from him so an angry Darcy retorted "No, some are worse, but none as bad as I've found here in Hertfordshire."

Mr Bennet's laughter came as a complete surprise. "Actually lad, I rather like you."

"Well Mr Bennet I've not seen anything of you to be able to say the same, but I hope that after we talk that will change."

"Don't be impertinent, lad."

"My name is Mr Darcy, Mr Bennet. I am a landowner just as you are."

"Didn't your father teach you to respect your elders?"

"That he did, but he also said that respect is earned it cannot be demanded."

"Are you a husband and father? I see no ring."

"I am not, but from where I sit you do neither as well."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, but I've see nothing that suggests you are a father or a husband."

"And what right do you have to sit in judgement on me?"

"From courting one of your daughters."

"So you've come to ask permission have you, like that Mr Bingley? Who is it? Can't be Jane, she's already affianced. Mary? Not likely, Kitty? Lydia?"

"Your other daughter Mr Bennet. Mrs Elizabeth Smith, nee Bennet."

"She's not my daughter!"

"I can assure you she is. Certainly legally, but more importantly morally."

"She gave up the right when she gave herself to that man, she's his now, I suppose he's …"

Darcy refused to let him slander Elizabeth so interrupted, "She was never his."

"What lies has she fed you?"

"None. I know the truth of what happened that night."

"Hah! I doubt that is possible, whatever web of lies she's spun, it won't be the truth."

"Then it is a good thing I've the testimony of her daughter's father then haven't I?"

"What? Who? How?"

Darcy pulled out Sumerville's letter and put it on the table by the bed. "Here. Written in his own hand."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because the author is my cousin Viscount Sumerville."

Mr Bennet, "I knew it! What does he have to say for himself?"

"Best you read it then."

"What if I don't? If I just throw it in the fire."

"I suspect you won't. I know you want to know what happened to your darling daughter. That letter proves she was the victim in a despicable act, not an accomplice to an illicit love affair."

"How do you know?"

"He confessed to the very same to his Father, the Earl of Matlock, in front of me and others only recently. The Earl made him write that letter. I believe my Uncle also signed it."

"It is still only his word."

"There was evidence, irrefutable evidence as well. That was the only reason the Viscount even admitted to it. He's been sent to rusticate as a result, so there was definite incentive for him not to admit to anything."

"Fine. So she was his victim? He… he imposed himself on her?"

"Yes. Tried to do the same with your other daughter, Jane."

"What!?"

"It's all in the letter Mr Bennet. I suggest you read it."

"What now?"

"Why not? The light is good. I'll just get a book." Darcy got up and left as Mr Bennet hesitantly reached for the letter.

Darcy took some time to return. When he did, he found Mr Bennett not reading just sitting there, tears rolling down his face.

"I would have spared you that if I didn't think you needed to know the truth Mr Bennet."

"This all happened to my dearest Lizzie?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Oh God. Lizzie. How did she survive? What did she do?"

"Best if you ask her Mr Bennet."

"How can I? You were right. I am not fit to be her father. Oh God. Lizzie!" The anguish he felt was clear.

"I'll go now. You'll need to talk to Elizabeth."

"No. I can't face her now. Maybe… later. But tell me. Does she hate me?"

"You'd think so, I probably would. But no, she doesn't. In fact I know your estrangement causes her pain, each and every day."

"Even after everything I did to her?"

"Even then. You have a remarkable daughter Mr Bennet, one that I hope to call my wife before long."

"You want to marry my Lizzie?"

"Most certainly. As I told you, I am courting her."

"And take her away from me again? What if I say no?"

"I told you I AM courting her. I didn't come here to ask for your permission. She has already given it to me, and that is all we needed."

"So I am to be cut out of her life, am I?"

"Only if you don't do something about it. Welcome her back, she'll come."

"Would she? ... Hold on a minute, you said she was Mrs Smith. Is there… Where is Mr Smith?"

"Unfortunately deceased. But I leave her to explain that part of her life to you as well. I think it best if I go get her now."

"No. Please give me a moment more. Can you at least tell me why a gentleman such as yourself would chose to marry someone else's wife, with a bastard child as well. Or did you not know it at the time you decided and feel honour bound not to back out now."

"I told you we are only courting, there has been no promise… yet. But actually I knew a good deal of her history before I made the decision to marry her because truly she is the best woman I have ever known, and I cannot see myself living without her."

"So what are you waiting for, just ask her, or are you having second thoughts?"

"I am waiting to propose, I'll know when it is the right time…" Darcy made a snap decision, "…so I get a positive answer this time."

"Err… What!? This time!?"

"I have to admit I've proposed to Elizabeth once before. Very badly, so she refused me."

"Turned you down? Given what I could only imagine her situation to be, she still refused you?"

"Yes, as hard as it was for me to believe at the time as well. But she was right to reject me. But I learnt a lot from her rejection. In fact I credit it with making me the man I am today."

"And she agreed to allow you to court her now? Why?"

"Best ask her… I really think you need to talk to Elizabeth. She can explain it better than I."

"So you keep saying… Alright, send her up. If she'll come."

"I am sure she will. Excuse me a moment."

Darcy got up and went downstairs to find Elizabeth in the front parlour with Charlotte. When they noticed, Darcy said quietly, "Elizabeth, I've talked to your father. Um… I've managed to get him to read Sumerville's letter, so he knows what happened in London. I've not told him anything else, well accept that I'm courting you, and I proposed once before and you turned me down… He wants to see you, but is worried that you won't want to see him."

They both looked at him with wide eyes, before Elizabeth asked shakily, "He's read the letter? He knows what happened? He wants to see me?"

"Yes, yes and yes."

"Papa wants to see me?"

"Yes. Do you want me to come with you?"

"Yes please. Excuse me Charlotte."

So Darcy led a hurrying Elizabeth upstairs. Once in the room she ran to her father, who was standing, if a bit wobbly, waiting for her.

"Papa!"

"Lizzie!"

Darcy stood off to one side. There was a great deal of crying, and embracing, but far less was said than he imagined. But maybe that was for the best. After some time, Mr Bennet asked Elizabeth if she would allow him to meet his first grandchild. When she said yes, and started to go get her, Darcy said he'd go get Amy-Jane instead. He took a while to do so, to give them some time together alone.

When he returned with Amy-Jane, Mr Bennet was sitting on the bed with Elizabeth alongside him, and they were both talking quietly, until they saw Amy-Jane. Darcy knew when he would be superfluous so left, taking the opportunity to answer some of his forwarded correspondence instead, the first of which arrived earlier today.

A while later Elizabeth found him and said her father had asked to see Jane and she was up there now. Darcy, concerned, asked Elizabeth how it went, as she wasn't there that long. He was relieved to hear that although they did not say that much, there would be plenty of time for that later; the important part was done. She was forgiven (whatever for thought Darcy) and had forgiven her father in return. Elizabeth did express that it would not be easy to allow her father back into her life, but most importantly, he realised that, and was prepared to accept anything she was prepared to give.

It was not long after that Jane came downstairs escorted by her father. Darcy noticed Jane had also been crying. Later he overheard Elizabeth asking Jane what was wrong, to be told they were tears of joy, not of sadness.

* * *

><p><strong>I suppose this probably should be 2 chapters, but this is one of the first chapters that I wrote inside out – having written the last part (the reconciliation), which was always part of my plot outline, before I was able to work out how they would get to Longbourn in the first place. Bingley's letter to achieve that end was a late arrival, several other ideas I'd written were a bit to deux-ex-machina for my liking. So I really could not post the second part, before the first. <strong>

**The ride isn't quite finished, but there is not long to go!**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	64. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 14

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 14**

* * *

><p>Darcy thought Elizabeth seemed much happier having now reconciled with both parents, so the visit was not proving to be the disaster he thought it may have been. So Darcy thought maybe now it was time to secure her hand, and vowed not to go back to London without doing so. That decided, Darcy considered whether to propose quickly and quietly. But on second thought, no, that wasn't right. It needed to be special, something that she'd remember forever, and he had the time to make it perfect, so if the moment wasn't right, or interrupted, he'd let it go, and wait for the next opportunity.<p>

That night he sat down at the writing desk in the parlour. Elizabeth was off settling Amy-Jane and the others were suitably occupied, even Mr Collins had taken the hint and left him alone. Taking out a clean sheet of paper Darcy wrote out a proposal. Reading it over meant a few edits, then a few more, and then more again until it was barely legible. After writing it out again, Darcy kept seeing improvements and made yet more changes. After writing out the 'final version' for the fourth time, Darcy read through it, satisfied that now it expressed exactly how he felt about her, in every way possible. She was certain to say yes this time!

Alone in his room that night, he read it out several times to assist in memorising it, to realise it was far too long. Frustrated that he'd not seen it earlier, Darcy sat at the small writing desk tucked in the corner of his room and went through it crossing out anything that didn't need to be said, to leave just the most vital bits. It was about an hour before Darcy had a much reduced version to memorise, something he found relatively easy, as this was a skill he'd developed while participating in amateur dramatics at Cambridge and kept up ever since (proving useful any number of times). He then went over to his travel trunk and pulled out a small lacquered box and checked the contents. Yes, that was exactly the right gift to go with his proposal. Finally happy that he was properly prepared, Darcy retired for the night.

The next day when they were out walking there was a point when Darcy realised it was just the two of them, Bingley and Jane were dawdling behind them. Darcy looked at Elizabeth, who was standing there gazing lovingly back at him, and he went to say it, but his nerves failed him and the moment passed. There was a possibility in the afternoon, when he and Bingley riding back from exercising their horses, encountered the ladies on their way back from visiting, but Cicero was playing up and would not accept being led, so Darcy had to ride off. The next day, Darcy decided he'd not let the chance go by as he had yesterday, but today both Amy-Jane and Miss Catherine wanted to go with them on their walk, so there wasn't any opportunity, regardless of how he tried to engineer it. Each time he thought he'd managed to get her alone someone would appear and spoil it.

Then preventing any further opportunity for the day, in the afternoon his cousin called. Richard's sporadic arrivals were never announced but appeared much anticipated, and he was not shy about being the centre of attention. In spite of not getting a chance today, Darcy had a good evening, the presence of two of Lady Catherine's relatives left Mr Collins almost completely speechless in awe of this 'august company'. The crowded situation at Longbourn meant Darcy had to share his room with his cousin, the first time he'd shared digs since Cambridge. But this at least gave him a chance to catch up with Richard in private. Richard's most recent trip had meant going as far north as Newcastle, then most places in between, although his cousin had spent the last two days nearby, in St Albans, and had left for London this morning. But on the way, decided he could afford the delay of spending a night in good company, so came to Meryton instead. When asked how it was all going, Richard was very upbeat, and would report on a successful trip to his superiors.

It was a comment made by Mrs Bennet as Richard left the next morning that prevented Darcy doing anything other than consoling Elizabeth that day. Darcy was certain Elizabeth's mother didn't mean it the way was understood, and it took some time before Elizabeth could consider it rationally herself. But with her upset like this, Darcy knew he couldn't propose today, it wasn't right, Elizabeth was not in a receptive frame of mind. Frustrated, Darcy kept reminding himself that patience was a virtue and what were a few days when measured against a lifetime?

The next day, Darcy vacillated between getting on with it or giving Elizabeth another day or two to recover her peace of mind, in the end deciding the extra day or two, however annoying for him would be best for her. Interestingly, having decided this before they set out for their walk, the perversity of fate meant this time there were any number of opportunities on the way out from Longbourn, and he nearly seized the moment several times before stopping himself. On the way back, as Jane paired up with Elizabeth, leaving him to walk with Bingley, he wished he had.

After luncheon, when the party prepared to make a visit to the newly arrived tenants of Netherfield Park, Elizabeth expressed regret that she needed to excuse herself, because Amy-Jane had been unsettled all morning and Bessie would need her to help to put her daughter down for her afternoon nap. Hearing this, Darcy decided he'd not let this good a chance pass by, so also excused himself, explaining he had to go into Meryton for supplies before attending to the pile of correspondence that had built up.

The time it took to ride to Meryton, pick up a trinket for Georgiana and then return proved to be long enough for Elizabeth to have done what she needed, as Darcy found her sitting with Bessie in the front Parlour darning. As Darcy walked in he caught his servant's eye and gestured for her to leave. She got the hint and quietly slipped out. Darcy walked over to Elizabeth and sat beside her, looking lovingly at her.

She placed her work down and turned to face him.

"My dearest Elizabeth, I want to say…" Darcy gulped. It was a lot easier just reading this off the paper in his room.

"…just wanted to say…" there was a moment of panic as his mind went blank.

"Yes?" Elizabeth's voice was calm, a hint of concern, but that didn't help. Maybe it was the proximity that was causing this, so Darcy got up and took a few steps, just far enough to be able to look out of the window.

"My dearest Elizabeth… ah… these last few weeks, no… it's been at least several months, two or was it three? No I am certain it was only two…" Good lord he was babbling. No, he didn't need to explain. So while thinking 'just seize the moment' Darcy returned, but this time dropping to one knee in front of her, her grasped her hand and blurted out…

"Elizabeth… will you marry me?" Darcy was so busy kicking himself for being so… crass… that he nearly missed her reply.

"Yes." She said quietly.

"Did you say yes?" Darcy needed to hear her confirmation.

"Yes!" Elizabeth said louder this time.

"You mean it? You said yes? You will marry me?"

"That is what yes means."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course I'm certain. I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

"Oh Elizabeth, you have made me the happiest of men." Darcy rose; he was feeling a little silly being still on one knee. Elizabeth rose to join him. Darcy stepped towards her then hesitated, was this too forward? But she then closed the distance and they celebrated their bond in a fierce embrace, talking in low tones, sharing the content of their hearts.

* * *

><p>It was some time later when they had both separated and were again sitting side by side, Darcy remembered his gift. Reaching into his fob pocket, he pulled out the small lacquered box.<p>

"Here this is for you. It's a mere token."

"What is it?'

"Open it…"

Darcy watched as she fumbled it open. He eyes widened as she saw the contents.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it! It's exquisite." Elizabeth lifted the delicately wrought gold and sapphire pendant on its fine chain and held it up to the light.

"Thank you. It was my mother's."

"That makes it so much better."

"Mother wore it constantly. I remember playing with it when sitting on her knee. I think… I think Father bought for her it when they were courting. Here let me put it on you." Darcy reached out and took it from her hand and placed his first real gift to her around her neck. Her smile provoked such wonderful feelings in him. She spent some time revealing in the way the light played on it, while he enjoyed just watching as the joy played across her face.

A little later, Elizabeth tucked the pendant into her bodice and looked up at him, "Um… Darcy, don't take this the wrong way… but… that wasn't the most romantic of proposals."

Darcy flushed with embarrassment, "Yes, you're right. I had a much better one…" he patted his pockets, before remembering where he'd put it, in his breast pocket, the one that sat over his heart. Pulling out and unfolding the piece of paper, he continued "…it's here, do you want to read it?" he offered it to her.

Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. "Only you could write out your proposal, and then offer it to me to read. Good thing I've said yes already."

"What! Sorry." Darcy went to grab it back, but his manners kicked in and he stopped, hand outstretched. "Err…" felling a little calmer now Darcy thought he'd remember now, "…I've memorised it. Do you want me to say it instead?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No. I think it lovely that my presence discommodes you so much you forget your lines. That speaks the truth far more than the words would ever do. It's not what you wrote but why that matters most. But can I keep it all the same?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you. You are a wonderful man Darcy, you know that don't you?"

"Will."

"Sorry?"

"Can you call me Will? That's what Mother called me when I was little."

"Of course Will, but only if you call me Lizzie."

"Yes dear… Eliza…Lizzie."

"Good. Now we'll seal that the way all lovers do…"

Darcy was on unknown ground, know nothing of how lovers were supposed to act, "Err…how?"

"With a kiss, of course!"

…

Darcy discovered that a stopping at a single kiss was not possible, and as one kiss led to another, it was very hard to stop. But in the end had to, for his own peace of mind, curtail them regardless of how pleasurable this activity was.

"Um… Eliz… Lizzie, maybe we should take a walk in the gardens, Bessie can accompany us for propriety's sake."

"As much as I want to say no Will, I think it best that I agree."

* * *

><p>They talked as they had inside for a while before Darcy thought of something that needed to be resolved: "Lizzie?"<p>

"Yes Will?"

"What now?"

"What do you mean what now? ... We get married…" Elizabeth sounded worried.

"Sorry, I didn't explain myself. Where do you want to get married. Here? London? Elsewhere?"

"Oh... Um... No, not here. Please. You know my Mother. Can you imagine what she'll want to do with our wedding? You've seen what Jane and Mr Bingley are putting up with."

That caused a number of unpleasant visions flit through Darcy's head, "Yes... so, not here... London? How about my Grandmother's residence? It'll need a special licence, but saves us having to read the banns at Lambton and ... Ramsgate? Longbourn?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "I don't know, but it doesn't matter anyway does it?"

"No, not with a special licence. Maybe hold it after Jane and Bingley come to London to sort out Jane's wedding trousseau?"

"Can we invite Charlotte as well? But no more. I want a quiet wedding. No Fuss. And now she's no longer caring for Father, I miss having her around to talk to."

"Anyone you want Lizzie. Actually maybe we can ask her to come to live with us anyway, would you like that?"

"You'd be happy with that?"

"Certainly. You know I have duties I can't avoid, and some will mean going away for a week or more, I can't help it. It would give me comfort to think you had a friend with you at those times. Oh... Georgie will be there, and I know you get on, but I'm certain having Charlotte there is different."

"Oh thank you!"

Darcy noticed she started forward to embrace him, but pulled back at the last minute, flushing with embarrassment. "I like Charlotte as well. I know you are giving up all of your previous life for me, this way I can help you keep at least a little of it."

"Honestly I don't see it as giving anything up, rather more just leaving it all behind. So please don't feel guilty on my behalf. And remember I was already preparing to move to Lambton, before you tricked me into staying at Pemberley." Thankfully this last was said with a laugh so Darcy knew there were no hard feelings.

"So where and how is sorted... Oh, Georgiana will be there, that goes without saying, but Richard? and I suppose the Earl and Countess will have to invited, given it is at Grandmother's."

"Yes, we need to invite them, but no more, plea... actually I forgot, we should invite Mrs Carter and the Gardiners as well."

"Fine, whoever you want."

"Thank you."

"Now as I was say, where and how, oh and who, has been decided, now it is just when?"

"Do you mind if it is as sooner rather than later?" Elizabeth looked anxious, maybe she thought he'd want to wait.

"Actually I'd prefer that, but I worried you'd not want to go so soon after getting here."

"To tell you the truth Will, I just want to go home."

"No problem Lizzie, just tell me where and when and I'll arrange it, I'll take you home."

Elizabeth's reaction to this surprised Darcy. She looked around for a moment then slunk over to a nearby bench saying quietly, seemingly only to herself, "I just want to go home… home…" then sat down and burst into tears, her head in her hands.

Darcy hoped he'd not done anything wrong as he quickly followed to comfort her, tentatively holding out a hand, relieved that Elizabeth clasped it with a desperate grip bordering on being painful. Seeing Bessie hurry over, he shook his head subtly and she returned to being intensely interested in the overgrown flower bed as she had previously. Could the stress of being back at Longbourn been too much for his love?

"Shh, dear Lizzie, shh… We can go now if you'd like… Please, Lizzie… I'll…I'll invent a family crisis. I'm certain I can get Wilkins back up here early tomorrow if I send an express, or… or I can hire a chaise in Meryton, it's still light enough to get most of the way tonight. Shh, dear… it will be alright. We go where ever you wish, just let me know…"

Her tears, which had been abating as he calmed her unexpectedly returned, full flood. Darcy, still not certain what he'd said, decided to stay silent this time, just giving her hand an encouraging squeeze from time to time as her sobs slowly subsided and eventually stopped. Elizabeth she reached into her sleeve and pulled out a handkerchief to dry her eyes.

"You must think I'm being very silly Will."

"No, of course I don't. But please Lizzie, tell me what is wrong, maybe I can help."

"That's the thing Will. You can't, no one can. You see I don't have a home. People will say this is my home, but… but, it's not been that for years. Ramsgate… well, you know why I can't go back there. Mrs Carter's new place in Lambton is not my home. Your Grandmother has been very generous, but her residence isn't it either." She looked close to tears again, "I have no home. I have no home!"

Darcy was stunned. He'd never considered that. Then he had a thought, "Lizzie… you know the saying, 'Home is where the heart is'…"

Elizabeth looked up at him, her tear filled eyes tore at his heart, "Yes. Will."

"Where's your heart, Lizzie?"

"With you, Will."

"And there's your answer. Your home is with me."

"Oh Will!" Darcy was unprepared, firstly for the instantaneous change to a joyous expression, followed immediately by Elizabeth's fierce embrace and most un-decorous kisses that he sat woodenly for a long moment before responding.

After just a little time, Darcy realised, as before, they had best stop before things went too far and gently disentangled from her and reinstated the appropriate distance between them.

Clearing his throat, Darcy tentatively asked, "Um, Lizzie, do you want to leave right away? Or do you want to wait until Bingley and Jane also go to London. When Bingley and I discussed our travel plans earlier today he was considering leaving in time for Jane to have some of her trousseau ready, so to have a gown to wear to my Grandmother's Eightieth Birthday Ball. I thought that would be a good way of introducing Jane to the Ton, as the future Mrs Bingley, and I know I can get them an invite."

"When is it? I vaguely remember it being mentioned but now I've lost track."

"Less than a month now, the twenty seventh. So Bingley was thinking a se'ennight from next Monday. How's that for you?"

"It would be nice to travel with Jane. Yes, that would be good."

Darcy would actually prefer to travel without them, just him, Elizabeth and Amy-Jane inside the coach, as Bessie would undoubtedly end up on top. "It could be earlier." He hinted.

"I suppose so. No. Let's stay until then. Jane needs me here, she was saying she's also finding Mother a bit too much to cope with at times."

"Well I suppose that's settled… Hey, I've an idea. How would you like to be married on Grandmother's birthday? It would be a present for her as much as anything else. You know now how instrumental she's been in helping me."

"Yes! Yes! What a good idea Will. Let's do that. Oh… Is that enough time to get the Special Licence?" She looked concerned at the prospect of having to wait.

"I see no problem there. I understand you can get it within quite quickly."

Elizabeth looked relieved for a moment, then looked concerned again. "Um… Will…?"

"Yes?"

"Err… can we not tell anyone yet? It'll only be for a week or so. Maybe let them know a day or two before we leave, that way Mother's… enthusiasm, will be kept to a minimal."

"That's fine with me, but what about Jane or Bingley?"

"You tell Mr Bingley, I'll tell Jane tonight. Oh, can I tell the Gardiners?"

"I don't see why not, they can be trusted not to pass it on.

"No, on second thoughts, let's not tell anyone? I can be our secret for now? I think it would be too hard for them to conceal their excitement, so best if we not say. Maybe even make a show of proposing then as well…" she laughed, "You'll get to use your memorised proposal after all. Shouldn't be that hard now you know the answer."

"True… Oh, best I have a word with Bessie now."

"No, can you leave that to me? Knowing you, you'll terrify her."

"I wouldn't!"

"You don't mean to, but you do. You do know that everyone below stairs is in awe of you? They treat your word as law."

"No!"

"I probably shouldn't have told you, your ego is big enough as it is. Anyway I know that you'll say she's not to breathe word of what happened here to anyone, and she'll be so nervous she'd blurt it out by accident." She must have seen how sceptical he looked… "Trust me, she will. I know just about all there is to know about her already."

"I bow to your superior knowledge. Do as you will my lady." Darcy made and exaggerated bow.

Elizabeth laughed, "I hope to hear that last part often!"

Darcy shrugged, "More often than I intend, less often than you'll want."

"An honest answer in any case, but I'll settle for that."

"Thank you. Now going back to what we were talking about, do you want me to approach your Father?"

"To ask for my hand?"

"No. Even he'd see that as a farce. No more to have him involved, you know, in your settlement."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"Yes, I think it will help. While I'll try to be as fair as possible, he could spot something I've missed. I've also thought about it a bit this week. I think Mr Bennet needs to be a father, not for you or Jane, but for your sisters' sake. They are still young enough to need his guidance. Goodness knows your Mother doesn't. Her heart's in the right place, but she is too indulgent for their own good. But how can we encourage him to take charge of his other daughters if we shut him out with you or Jane? … Oh, and if you agree, I'll talk to Bingley about it as well."

"Lydia certainly needs to be reined in, Kitty is doing well with her Godmother in spite of everything, and Mary is… hmm…" Elizabeth shrugged before continuing, "I'm not certain if it will work but I agree. But can we ask Father about my settlement just before we tell Mother. Maybe you should get the special licence beforehand; she's been pushing for Jane and Mr Bingley to have one even though they don't need it."

"That makes sense, I'll need the letter about your husband, but it should not take much to arrange. Oh, you are twenty one aren't you?"

Elizabeth was surprised he didn't know, but then again it was not something that they'd discussed, so she replied, "Yes. My twenty-first birthday was almost exactly a month before arriving at Pemberley."

"I knew that," he said in a way that Elizabeth was certain he hadn't remembered or even didn't know the date, "I was just unsure what age you are now. That is all."

"I am already one and twenty. You don't mind marrying an old spinster like me?"

"Not if you don't mind a doddery old gentleman, much closer to one and thirty than you."

The thought of Darcy thinking him as doddery made her laugh, and she shook her head while Darcy continued, "In that case I'll make it obvious I'm proposing in a week next Saturday. That way, we'll see your Father that afternoon, announcement that night, and with your Mother having to show some decorum on Sunday, and us leaving Monday, the pain will be kept to a minimum."

"You, sir, think of everything!"

"I try to. Well Lizzie, shall we go in?"

* * *

><p>The rest of the afternoon and evening went well, although Darcy discovered how difficult it was to not tell anyone such good news. But as the hours passed it became easier, and he reverted to usual manner. Elizabeth on the other hand seemed to enjoy walking on the edge of a cliff, making comments that, from his position of knowledge would have seemed obvious, but thankfully no one picked up on it. Maybe the very idea was too improbable for anyone to believe?<p>

But the plans of kings to paupers should not be so well defined, to do so is to tempt fate. So it was in this case as well.

It was passed eight when a knock on the entrance to Longbourn raised the interest of everyone in the parlour. Darcy moved back out of the way as the younger Bennet girls in particular, moved closer to the door to the hall. Before long it opened and Richard strode in.

After a prolonged period of greeting, Richard announced, much to Darcy's annoyance (why couldn't he have done in more discretely) that he'd been sent by his Grandmother, and he needed to speak with his cousin about a family matter. After the expression of alarm, he just laughed and said it was a minor, uncontroversial matter that had arisen because they were combined guardians of Darcy's sister, but as he had only had limited time, with all his other duties, and with Darcy not in London, he had to make his way here instead.

Darcy took Richard aside as soon as it was polite and headed towards Mr Bennet's office, while thinking however he was going to deal with the speculation that revelation would provoke was anyone's guess. Knocking on Mr Bennet's door, Darcy negotiated getting the room to ensure a private conversation with his cousin.

"Well Richard, what on earth is going on with Georgiana!?"

"Nothing." Said Richard looking smug.

"What do you mean nothing? I can think of nothing good that would cause you to ride all this distance, the last part in twilight, that couldn't be dealt with by a letter."

"Well it is nothing good, but it doesn't concern Georgiana, it's about Elizabeth."

"What on earth!?"

"Calm down Darcy. It's just rumours. I found out about them early this afternoon, as I recall I'd just finished giving my report and was having a bite to eat, Payton came to see me. He's a major in the 10th Royal Hussars, and was contemporary of Brummel, which explains his bloody pompous…"

"Richard I don't care who or how or when, just tell me what's going on!"

"Alright, alright… I shall have share the way Peyton…" Oh dear, Richard appeared to be in one of those moods, and must know he was being deliberately aggravating, but hoping not to annoy his cousin further, Darcy interrupted. "Please, Richard, just tell me what you've heard…"

"Read."

"… Alright, read. Please. I'll listen to the rest later."

His cousin sighed, but thankfully acquiesced, reaching into a pocket and pulling out something ripped out of a cheap newspaper and handing it over with a, "Read this" and pointing to a point part way down a gossip column.

_Has a most eligible catch from Derbyshire meet his match? A little bird has told this humble correspondent that he has been ensnared by a merry widow, Mrs S without any wedding bells to be heard, after both headed north… Her sudden unheralded arrival to the post of companion to the most respected Lady V set tongues a wagging. But with her vivacious wit and charming looks was this her plan all along?_

"So Richard, is it just the one gossip column?"

"As far as I can tell, but from what I know, if it's reported in Lady Whistledown´s Society Papers one day, it'll be in all the others within a day or two."

"Good Lord. I'd thought by us leaving London she'd avoid becoming the subject of malicious gossip like this. Any idea where this Lady Whistledown learned of our movements?"

"No. Mother or Grandmother might be able to find out otherwise I suppose Steele or Hatfield might be able to get to the bottom of it if the source is from below-stairs. This Lady Whistledown has an uncanny ability to learn of things before anyone else does. I'm surprised that thing with Sumers didn't end up in it, just about everything else he does seems to."

"I suppose there is nothing that can be done to pressure the papers to not publish."

"No, and in fact they relish it. Others have tried. It just makes it worse as the editor just makes the attempt an article as well. Which means more people read about it not less."

"Damn!" by now Darcy was pacing around Mr Bennet's office, the start of a headache forming behind his eyes. Just as everything was going so well.

"Don't worry Darcy, if you rusticate for several months, avoid the rest of the Season, you'll be both forgotten as with any other old scandal when you return for the next."

"Yes, but that means I'll not be able to make Grandmother's birthday. Blast! No… There must be a solution, I just need to think." Darcy looked around for a something to drink, just to steady himself, but while there was a liquor cabinet, it had been cleared out, all the bottles now empty, and from the fresh smell of the residues, this was a very recent action.

Darcy sat behind the desk. He felt a bit guilty with the presumption, but did it all the same. It just seemed like the right part of the room to be. Sitting behind a desk, like this was just another day managing an estate. It gave the illusion of control, of being able to do things, make change, and that illusion was calming, even as rationally he knew it for what it was. Richard took his silence as permission to prattle away about that Major who reported the gossip to him, but it was easy to ignore, Darcy had plenty of practice, as he read the short passage over and over.

At some point Richard must have realised he was not listening as he had stopped by the time Darcy had part of a plan formulated and became aware of his surroundings again.

"Richard, are you going back to London or headed elsewhere tonight? Tomorrow morning?"

"Back to London tomorrow."

"In that case, I'll join you, as I have things I should get on to. Are you free to lend a hand?"

"Should be. I've not anything planned until a week Thursday, when I'm off to Bristol and the West Country."

"Great. Do you mind asking your mother and Grandmother to see what they can find out, and since you're there ask Hatfield as well. While you're doing that, I'll ask Steele, oh and see if Bingley's man Adam might be able to help."

"Certainly. Consider me at your disposal."

"Thanks Richard." Actually if Darcy's plan worked out, Richard would be busier than he imagined. "So you happy with an early start? Seven?"

"Could be earlier if you want. You know us soldiers, up at the crack of dawn."

"No need to be that precipitous, we'll still get to London before noon. No one is up until then anyway."

"Fine. Seven it is…" Richard headed for the door. With his hand already on the doorknob, he turned and asked, "One last thing Darcy. Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd prefer not to have to share a room tonight, so I'll head off to the inn in Meryton. Anyway, O'Connor is there already. I'll meet you here at 7 tomorrow, is that alright?"

"Actually, I'm quite pleased with that arrangement. Are you going to tell Mrs Bennet or are you going to leave me the dubious honour?"

"You'd do that for me? Excellent! In that case I'll slip out while you make my excuses. Oh, apologise to Elizabeth for me. Thanks." And with that said, his cousin did as he said.

* * *

><p>Once back in the parlour Darcy made the apologies for his cousin (not that well received, and Darcy did wonder what it would be like if it the other way around, would they express the same disappointment if it was him going to the inn that night?). Darcy then used the excuse Richard gave when he arrived to make light of what had actually been discussed, and told them it was of no real significance, but he needed to go to London tomorrow to get this minor legal issue resolved, in truth trivial, but the law being what it was, would not allow a delay. He wasn't certain of what actually occurred to tell Elizabeth, but the point was moot as he never got an opportunity to talk to her alone.<p>

Nor was there a chance to be alone the next morning, Bessie told him that Amy-Jane had a bad night and Elizabeth was very busy with her daughter. Had he not admired her devotion to Amy-Jane, he could have felt a bit disgruntled at her lack of attention to his leaving, getting only a brief wave as a send-off.

[line]

They had made most of the journey to London when they all passed the coaching inn where most made their first change of horses. In doing so Darcy thought he saw a familiar coach in the yard.

"Richard... Was that Aunt Catherine's coach?"

"Certainly looked like it. Any idea why it's here? Should we go see?"

"I see no reason for to be here, unless... unless, she's sent it to get Mr Collins to return."

"That's sounds fair enough. Looks like he'll return empty-handed."

Darcy decided to put his cousin on the spot, "Maybe, but it might just prompt him to propose to Charlotte hoping for a yes before he returns a failure."

"Maybe." Richard seemed very nonplussed about it.

Darcy tried again to get a reaction, "Mr Collins appears to be very attentive to Miss Lucas, and she didn't avoid his company."

"True."

"You don't mind?"

"Why should I Darcy? She has a lot of admirable qualities, any gentleman would gain a 'prize above rubies' if they secured her hand. Even you, if your eye was led that way. Think, if it wasn't for the lovely Elizabeth, you could be competing with Mr Collins for her hand."

"If that was the case it would hardly be a competition."

"No, I suppose you're right... You have Pemberley, he only has the promise of a rundown estate. But apart from that I don't see there is any difference..."

"What!"

"Good Lord Darcy, you're easy to bait these days..."

"Why you..." But Darcy's didn't bother to continue as Richard had spurred his horse and rode off at a gallop. Darcy only managed to react and get Cicero to a matching gallop by the time O'Connor, who had been following a good distance behind, had raced past after his superior.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth was worried, in fact, very worried. A day after her acceptance of Darcy's offer where was her intended? Off to London, on something he said was 'trivial'. And why wouldn't she worried? She'd noticed he was more introspective than usual last night and had tried to approach her several times but neither of them could create a time to talk privately. Then off at 7 in the morning, without being able to wait for her in the morning? It had to be far more urgent and important than he let on.<p>

During their morning walk, which started later than normal, at an opportune moment Elizabeth asked Mr Bingley if Darcy had told him anything about this mysterious errand (even yes, but I could not say would have been useful intelligence, and she was sure she could get Jane to wheedle it out of her fiancé), but he was no wiser than the rest of them.

They returned far earlier than usual because Elizabeth wanted to see how her daughter was doing. As they did so, they saw a fancy coach coming down the driveway to Longbourn. As it turned to enter the grounds of the house proper, they all saw a livery none of them recognised, which at least alleviated Mr Bingley's fear that it was his sister in a hired vehicle. Hurrying to catch up with the vents, they all arrived to find the house in considerable uproar.

Elizabeth heard a strident female voice berate her cousin "… and I find you here, against my own advice, malingering. What do you say to that Mr Collins?"

His answer was either inaudible or to slow as the lady continued, "So I give you a week. But just a week! You will find a wife in that time or, betrothed or not you will return to Hunsford. At your own expense. I will not be sending the carriage. I am most seriously displeased."

This time her cousin found his voice, "Yes Lady Catherine. Most certainly Lady Catherine. Just a week? It's been… No, of course a week."

"Stop prattling. Well? Why are you still here? I don't need you. Go off and pack."

The light dawned, this could only be Darcy's aunt Lady Catherine de … somebody. The one that thought he'd be marrying her daughter. What was she doing here? Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her and she entered the hall (although in hindsight Elizabeth wished she'd had just gone upstairs to see to Amy-Jane as she had planned, Jane and Mr Bingley were conspicuous by their absence, and everyone else seemed to have been in like mind).

Elizabeth saw an older lady, severe faced, overdressed standing and glaring at the sight of Mr Collins scurrying upstairs.

"Lady Catherine?" asked Elizabeth tentatively

"Yes. And you are?"

"Mrs Smith."

"Ah, of course. Where is my nephew?"

"Which one? Both Mr Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were here yesterday, although…"

"Mr Darcy of course… You know I'd not be interested in the other."

"Sorry, I don't follow. But in any case, neither is here."

"You expect me to believe that? Where is he?'

"He is decidedly not here. They both left for London only this morning."

"While I would have preferred to bring this matter up with him, you will do. You can have no doubt Mrs Smith," Lady Catherine said her name with clear disgust, "why I had to make the journey here. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why."

"You are mistaken, I know nothing of your coming, other than I suspect the connection between my cousin and the living at…"

Lady Catherine interrupted, "Mrs Smith, you cannot expect me to believe you do not know why I am here. A report of a most alarming nature reached me only a day ago. I shall not sully my speech to repeat it, but it suggested that you, of all people, are now connected with my own nephew, and in an intimate way! Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though it best that he be advised of it as soon as was possible."

"What? What report?"

"You know of it, for it is your own work."

"I know nothing of any report. I have done nothing to warrant it."

Lady Catherine reached into her reticule to pull out part of a newspaper article and thrust it at her. "Here read this…"

Elizabeth read the clipping from what could only be a gossip column.

"What! How dear they write such slander!"

"So you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is being spread about?"

"It is not true, no! I never…"

"And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?"

"Very easily. Your cousin was very kind in escorting me home due to… to the injury to my father, thankfully now recovered. And this was all done with the blessing of Lady Vivienne."

"So you deny you are his mistress?"

"How dare you!"

"I dare because I must. Mr Darcy is to marry my daughter. I will not have scandal attached to my future son-in-law."

It was a good thing that Darcy had warned her about his Aunt's spurious claims previously or she would have had serious doubts about him at this juncture.

"Nor would I. I am not his mistress. Nor will I ever be."

"So it all becomes clear now… I can see through your design, such lofty heights for one such as yourself!"

"Design? What design?"

"You are using your arts and allurements to make him, in a moment of infatuation, forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. Is it not your plan to draw him in, putting him in such a position that he will have to make you an offer?"

"That is none of your business, nor will I flatter you with an answer."

"This is not to be borne. Mrs Smith, I insist on being satisfied. Do not deny that even now you are planning to force him to make you an offer of your hand. Whether or not that," and Lady Catherine pointed at the newspaper clipping, "is part of your plans or not."

If she knew thought Elizabeth! But rather than reveal the truth she just laughed, "I can assure you Lady Catherine that I am doing nothing of the sort."

"That I doubt. You will try to force him, against all reason, against his very conscience and duty to offer for you. I doubt he has told you of his prior attachment, of his betrothal to my daughter. This is the culmination of the most fervent desires of both his mother and of mine. But he is a man of duty, and his duty is well understood by all the family. He is not one to fail to follow all that is right and proper. He is a man of sense and rationality; he knows what it is he must do. Your plans will all come to naught. You might as well give it up now."

"I cannot understand you. On one hand you accuse me of trying to force Mr Darcy to offer for me, and yet you have just explained how, in your opinion, it will not happen. If there is your daughter's prior claim, why have you even bothered to come here?"

"I came here to warn you off. I know of ladies like you. I will not cross your palm with silver, and I will advise my brother and also my nephew to do the same. There. Now you know where you stand."

"Yes, yes I do. But you need not fear. If your nephew is bound by a prior betrothal, even if I force a situation on him, I cannot see him then making an offer to me. But if he does not see it the way you do, I can assure you if an offer of marriage was not made willingly, I would refuse. I will not, nor will ever be a source of obligation, to him or any other person on this earth."

"I see you have seen reason. So you promise that if my nephew makes an offer you will refuse him?"

"No. I only promise not to force him to have to offer, or refuse to accept any offer made under duress. If the offer is made from his own free will happily consider it in the nature it which it is given. But as you say, he is betrothed to your daughter, and I will not force him to offer, the situation cannot arise, now can it?"

"But... but..." stuttered Lady Catherine. Elizabeth was pleased to have stumped her. Lady Catherine could not accuse her of anything without refuting their supposed betrothal. "If that is all Lady Catherine, my daughter needs her mother." Elizabeth took the pause this afforded to start up the stairs, but Lady Catherine seemed determined to have the last word.

"I see you refuse to see sense, Mrs Smith. There is little point me staying here trying to convince someone will not listen to reason."

"I am very much of the same view, Lady Catherine." Elizabeth took several more steps up the stairs, so she was mostly facing away from this intruder.

"If that is how you treat a guest in your own home, I take my leave of you. I know now what I must do. But mark my words Mrs Smith, you will not prevail. I will be doing all I can to prevent my nephew ever considering such a perversion of the correct order of things, and I assure you so will my brother, the Earl of Matlock."

"I do not doubt that. But you do not know your nephew as well as you think. Good day to you."

"I do not return such sentiments. You do not deserve them." With a swish of fine material and a nose turned upward the august lady departed.

As Darcy's Aunt left, muttering something about the shades of Pemberley being polluted, Elizabeth stayed where she was until the unmistakeable sound of a coach departing was heard. In the silence that followed she turned and headed up the stairs, almost getting knocked over by the frantic Mr Collins, as he headed down carrying a large valise that obscured his vision.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the only the first half what I thought would be one chapter, but as I wrote it out I realised, to make the story make sense, more must happen (and be written) than I originally described in my plot outline. So while I've not finished the second part, this is first half is complete. So rather than make you wait for the whole of it, I've posted this now for your enjoyment.<strong>

**I did wonder if people would notice the reference to Lady Whistledown - from a number of books by Julia Quinn - one of my favourite authors - it didn't take long. I recommend reading any/all of her regency novels, along with others such as the original Georgette Heyer, or current Mary Balogh, Amanda Quick and many others.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	65. Part 4, Renewal: Chapter 15

**Part 4: Renewal, Chapter 15**

* * *

><p>On arriving in London Darcy and Richard stopped for light refreshments at Darcy House before Richard went off to see his Mother then Grandmother. Darcy stayed on and summoned Steele and mentioned the problem to him. While the Darcy Butler was adamant it would not be any of the staff, he would make enquiries all the same.<p>

Darcy then asked Mrs Taylor to join him and Steele in his office. When she arrived, he asked them both if there was a way to prepare the Mistress's quarters for the new Mrs Darcy, but without alerting the staff, as an announcement had not been made. Mrs Taylor quickly replied that with Georgiana staying with the Matlock's, the staff were already cleaning the family area, including both the Master's and Mistress's quarters, and will be replacing the dust covers on the Mistress's rooms afterwards. But then it would be only a matter of moments to make those rooms presentable. When Steele suggested that maybe Darcy would allow some funds to replace carpets and drapes to update the rooms, Darcy said it would be best to wait, as the lady in question would most likely prefer to make those choices herself. Steele replied he was happy to defer to his Master's judgement in this matter, but warned there was only so much that could be done with the carpets, although the drapes were in better shape. On being informed of this, Darcy went with them to look, and decided to swap the carpet and drapes from the corner guest room to the Mistress's room, as he said 'they were the newest and brightest' of what was available.

It was only later that Darcy realised that his two head servants had not batted an eyelid when told of his upcoming nuptials and appeared to be well on the way to be ready for Elizabeth's arrival. At that moment he wondered how much of what he thought as private, so known only to himself, were they aware of. This was driven home to a greater degree when he discovered that both Mrs Taylor and Mrs Reynolds had been involving Elizabeth in the day to day decisions of running Pemberley and Darcy House for weeks already; asking her about dinner menus, seating preferences and staffing matters. When he asked Elizabeth about it, she thought she'd just been confirming decisions that had been asked of Georgiana first, but his sister knew nothing of it.

Having dealt with domestic matters, Darcy headed off to Doctor's Commons to find a representative of the Archbishop of Canterbury, from who he'd obtain the required special licence. It was surprisingly easy, only requiring the payment of four pounds and a simple explanation; his parish is Lambton in Derbyshire, hers Ramsgate in Kent but they wished to get married at his elderly grandmother's here in London, which was accepted at face value. There was even an apology that it would not be ready until later today. Yes, while that was a slight delay, it was far faster that Darcy thought it would take. Actually the speed in which it could be obtained allowed Darcy to think of changing his plans some, so he headed straight to see his solicitor to get settlement papers drawn up.

This was not as easy as the licence. Darcy understood that the lawyer was doing his job to point out what he said was Darcy's 'over generous' provisions of Elizabeth and Amy-Jane, but damn-it, he was not some milch cow being bobbed of his fortune! In the end, Darcy accepted a few changes, but only where it was possible he was being too favourable to his wife over his heir, and the settlement papers were done, only needing the law clerk to write them out neatly. When, not unreasonably, Darcy thought, he requested these to be ready for later today, the solicitor asked why there was this unseemly rush, Darcy snapped, "None of your bloody business!" in reply. He knew he should have apologised, but having spent several hours having his desires countered at every turn, even if unsuccessfully, he was in no mood to be generous. But he'd made his point and the solicitor hurried off to get his wishes attended to.

Realising it was probably best not to go see his sister directly as his temper was still too volatile, Darcy headed back to Darcy House instead. Walking into the library, Darcy discovered Richard waiting for him, and had been there a while, given how much damage had been done to the whiskey decanter. Richard raised his glass in greeting, but surprising instead of demanding what Darcy was up to, as Darcy expected, his cousin stared off into the distance, deep in thought. Darcy grabbed a brandy and sipping on it, and joined Richard thinking through what he hoped would be the course of events over the next few days. Realising he'd need his cousin's assistance, Darcy decided to come clean, so coughed, several times, to get Richard's attention.

"Ah... yes, sorry Darcy, been thinking…"

"So you do that occasionally then?"

"Very funny Darcy, now you've interrupted my train of thought, what is it?"

"You know I've planned to marry Elizabeth for some time…"

"Yes. And…"

"Well, I'm about to collect the Special Licence."

"You what?"

"Special Licence, I arranged one this morning, I'm off to collect it soon."

Richard bounded out of his chair with a, "Congratulations! That's marvellous! Darcy I'm so happy for you… Gosh… Married, eh? So when? Where?"

"That is where I need your help…" and Darcy went on to explain his plans, modifying them some in light of some good suggestions from Richard.

* * *

><p>The first stop was Matlock House to give Georgiana the good news. They both noticed their Aunt's coach in the yard, which if here must meant they did not see it earlier heading north from London. They entered the house through the kitchen (the side entrance would have been faster) because it gave his cousin a chance to steal a few pastries. They came up through the first floor via the back stairs, to the sound of raised voices in the Earl's office.<p>

Darcy wanted to walk on past, but Richard checked him. His cousin put a finger to his lips and tip-toeing himself, tugged Darcy closer and snuck into an alcove where they could both eavesdrop.

"…face reality Catherine. You say it is not completely lost, but in actuality her confidence means you've lost him. I know my nephew, he'd not lead a woman on."

"But can't you do something? She cannot be allowed to thwart my wishes to have him marry Anne."

"What is there to be done? Darcy has clearly made his choice. I have no ability to influence him in this regard."

"No influence! You are the head of this family, just forbid him to marry that… that…"

"Don't say it sister. But I am not the head of his family, now am I? I'm not even guardian to Georgiana, although I probably should have been. But Blake was very clear he saw Darcy to be old enough to take…"

"I don't care what our brother-in-law thought. If you won't tell him I will. I'll tell him I forbid it. That… that… an alliance with that woman would be a disgrace. He will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone currently connected with him. His name will never even be mentioned by any of us!"

"Tell him what you will sister, but do not suggest those are my words. You know Mother has a soft spot for him. I would not want to be in a position of having to choose between the two of you."

"Bah, you are a co…"

"Stop! Catherine. Do not say it! I am not that in the slightest. What I am is a realist. You will not prevail against a gentleman in love. It is the height of foolishness to try. No what we must do is prepare for the inevitable. Darcy is out of reach…"

"No he's not. They've not wed, even if she won't turn him down when he does offer. There is still time."

"Catherine, the fact we are here talking of it means it is too late. I have observed them, you haven't. It is a foregone conclusion. The opportunity has passed, if it ever was there in the first place…"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing important. The fact of the matter is you need another candidate, and the only acceptable one is my son."

"No. I refuse to believe it, I will have Darcy."

"You will have to accept it, Darcy's gone. Now it is just a matter of planning how to get Richard to the altar."

"Simple, just tell him he is to do so. It is his duty after all. It's what you should be doing with Darcy."

"Catherine, give up on Darcy. And it is not that simple with Richard either. There are reasons that he may not just do as he's bid."

"What!? Surely he understands his obligation to his family?"

"That he does, but he's not as beholden to me as in the past, his promotion to the Marquis of Wellington's staff means I have little influence of his career now. He could easily hold out for a noble daughter with a sizable estate as a dowry given I failed to secure one for Henry."

"What's wrong with Anne? She has the bloodline."

"But not the title, it was only a knighthood and there's the rub. No we need to give him a reason for quitting the army and wed now, one that is immediately accessible. Rosings must go with Anne as a dowry."

"No!"

"Yes. Look, it's no good him becoming betrothed but then going back Spain. He could well die before producing an heir, and Sir Lewis's cousin will get it all. No, Anne is probably only good for one child, so we must set it up as a fate-accompli, something he can't back out of."

"Do something so he has no choice but to marry Anne."

"Yes something like that. Look Richard's away at the moment, but I'll speak with him at an appropriate time when he's back in London. Do I have your permission to offer Rosings…"

"A fait-accompli. Yes of course."

"Sorry Catherine, but do I have your permission?"

"Yes, yes. You do whatever. Thank you, brother."

"I'm glad we've agreed. Stay for dinner?"

"No. I'll be off now. Need to get back to Kent. There are arrangements to make."

"Of course. But thank you for bringing this to my attention. It needs to be handled carefully, but I am sure we'll get the outcome we desire."

"That we will brother. That we will. Good day Phillip."

"God's speed Catherine. See you soon?"

"Should do. Pass my best wishes on to the Countess."

Richard suddenly jerked Darcy back, as the Earl and Lady Catherine must have been walking to the door as they finished, as immediately thereafter the door opened and their Aunt strode away. The Earl stayed and watch for a while before returning to his office, thankfully neither looked towards were Darcy and Richard were holed up.

Quietly they went back the way they had come, before heading to the family quarters the level above on the back stairs.

As they did so Darcy couldn't help but say, "Richard, looks like your goose is cooked."

They almost reached the top when Richard bothered to reply, glumly, "It is, isn't it. I suppose I'll have to be married before I go back to Spain."

Darcy felt he could extract a certain poetic justice from his cousin's situation, "Well Richard, for all Mrs Bennet's faults, it looks like my mother-in-law will be marginally better than yours!"

Whatever Richard was going to reply was lost as they found Georgiana in the hall, a sheaf of music score in her hand. Taking her aside, Darcy related his plans regarding his future to her.

In hindsight he should have been prepared for her reaction, but her squeals of delight and effervescent exclamations of joy were far more than he expected. Thankfully this rapturous display drew only Mrs Annesley and no other. After some time, Georgiana calmed down enough to explain the plan for the next few days. She and Mrs Annesley were to go to Longbourn with Richard tomorrow, while Darcy had a few things to collect before heading off tonight.

Later, after riding in one direction to collect the settlement papers, and then back in the other to wait to pick up the Special Licence, Richard asked Darcy if it was alright if he and Georgiana were late getting away tomorrow, as he had a few errands to run. Darcy had no problem agreeing to this. In fact it suited him to have more time to arrange things with Elizabeth. So they parted ways at the Doctor's Commons, as Darcy having achieved everything he needed and would head directly out of London, while Richard would do whatever he needed to do, before staying at Darcy House overnight (for obvious reasons) before sending the coach around to pick Georgiana and Mrs Annesley so he could escort them north.

* * *

><p>Darcy arrived back at Longbourn, sore from his hard ride, but charged with energy. Striding into the parlour, and immediately after greeting those assembled, he asked Elizabeth if she would come with him.<p>

It was a very puzzled lady that followed him out into the fading summer afternoon light, but that could not be helped. Gesturing for her to sit on the garden bench he knew could be seen from the house, he waited until she had just seated herself before dropping to one knee, carefully slipping the written proposal into the hand hidden from those inside.

"_My dearest Mrs Smith, it has been many weeks, nay months, that I…"_

Elizabeth burst out laughing… "Good Lord Will, you're not really going to read that proposal to me?"

"I thought it best, that way I'd not miss any of it."

"Can we just pretend you read it and explain why you're proposing today?"

"If you say so, but you need to look like you said yes at the end of this."

"What if I say… Sorry Will, a jest in poor taste. Certainly, then I've got some news for you too."

"Well, the thing is…" Darcy went on to explain the gossip column, surprised she'd already found out about it, but then carried on, explaining the easiest way of countering this was to go back to London already married. He'd thought about it on the way back and suggested that as they had a Special Licence, there was no time like the present, so how would she fell about Saturday, the day after tomorrow. Stay here Sunday, then appear as a married couple to the ton at the very next suitable ton event. Darcy was expecting some resistance to the idea, but she'd agreed even before he'd finished explaining everything. It was here that she took pity on him (he was still kneeling), and acted out her 'yes' so the remainder could be discussed while walking through the park.

Pleased at her response, Darcy went on to say if asked, they could say they had gone north to her home because her father was still recovering from a serious fall, he'd proposed quite a bit earlier but they'd decided to wait until the 5 year anniversary of her husband's passing and, as she was a widow, they didn't want to make a big fuss about it. While none of it was an actual lie, Elizabeth was not so happy that they'd be twisting the truth a bit, so Darcy agreed that this might need some work and that they'd discuss it further before coming to a mutually agreeable explanation.

Once that had been settled, Darcy mentioned that his sister, Mrs Annesley and Richard would be coming up tomorrow, so he would have family at the wedding. Elizabeth was ecstatic that Georgiana would be there, and expressed her delight in the usual way of lovers. When they untangled, Darcy asked what her news was and Elizabeth told of the visit by his Aunt and the welcome relief when she told Mr Collins he was not to stay another hour under the Bennet's roof. When Darcy quipped that his Aunt certainly liked to feel useful, but that was unlikely to be the entire reason for a visit all this way, he noticed she hesitated in her reply.

In the end, Elizabeth told what had to be a very charitable description of what must have been an acrimonious confrontation (he knew his Aunt too well to think it would be otherwise) but it did explain how Elizabeth found out. He was incensed by what he could imagine his Aunt had said, he doubted she would have been as polite as Elizabeth related. In the end he supposed it didn't really matter, if anything it had made his job of persuading her to marry quickly easier, something else he may just have to 'thank' his Aunt for. When Elizabeth mentioned they probably left those inside on tender-hooks long enough, Darcy concurred. As they returned he discovered she was happy if he went to see Mr Bennet as soon as the initial furore died down.

* * *

><p>As Darcy knocked on the door to Mr Bennet's office he was very grateful he's escaped the pandemonium that was still occurring in the parlour. Mrs Bennet reacted as he feared she would, he thought they'd not have to announce anything, as the nearest neighbours, though a considerable distance away, must have heard her exclamations of joy already. Everyone else made similar, if less effusive, comments and tears abounded. Darcy was particularly gratified in the way the Gardiners, in reality Elizabeth's de facto parents, were extremely happy for her. He'd seen how she'd hesitated before going to talk to Mrs Gardiner. Bingley's only comment of 'finally' was a bit on the nose given his history with Jane, but it was neither the time nor place to make anything off it.<p>

After Mr Bennet asked him to enter, his next comment was, "So you've finally confirmed what we've all expected then?"

"Yes Mr Bennet, your daughter has done me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage."

"Good, good. You'd think, Mr Darcy that the wedding had already taken place with that carry on. But then again Mrs Bennet is the same with everything, even something as little as beating the neighbours to the best goose on sale. But now you know why I'm in here more often than not."

Darcy felt it would not be politic to comment, so stayed silent.

"So why are you here Mr Darcy? You made it quite clear you will not be asking for my permission?"

"That is true, but I do wish to discuss the settlement with Elizabeth, but with you present."

"Why? What use can I be?"

"Rather a lot I feel. As a father of five daughters I imagine you've had to consider this a far more than I have needed to, so I am sure you will be able to contribute a great deal."

"Sounds like a sop to an old man to me."

"Mr Bennet, you must be aware I am honest, many say to a fault, and it is the same in this case. I value your thoughts on her settlement, and I am sure Elizabeth will as well. I have instructed my solicitor as best I can, but I am as fallible as anyone and I am certain anyone that taught his daughter to play chess as she does will provide well-reasoned advice."

"Oh you play do you?"

"Yes. Well enough to hold my own. I have to admit I am keen to pit myself against Elizabeth's tutor, but now is not the time."

"To be sure, but the offer is always there for when you need some respite from my wife's talk of lace and ribbons, you see she's sustained it for weeks with Jane already. You've got the same to look forward to."

"Actually Mr Bennet, it will not be that bad, we wish to be wed this Saturday."

"What!" Mr Bennet looked agitated, "Is there some reason for the unseemly rush? What haven't you told me?"

"Um… No nothing like that, but there is a good reason for it. Can I go get Elizabeth? I'd prefer to be here when we explain it to you?"

Mr Bennet was clearly sceptical but allowed Darcy to go.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth preceded her fiancé into her father's office, waiting until he sat as well. Darcy started by explaining their reasoning for wanting a quick wedding. Her father listened, but appeared not convinced of the urgency until Darcy produced the actual gossip column and explained where Lady Whistledown led, most others followed. So by returning to London wed it would put paid to any further gossip. Elizabeth felt it was necessary to chip in with their explanation, deciding to stay close to what Darcy had suggested originally, for why they married where and when they did, but realised she should him permission to be able to mention his recent fall as part of it. So did he agree to a wedding sooner or later? Her father considered for far longer than she'd hoped, during which Darcy showed the concern she was feeling about it, probably thinking as she was, that this was a bad sign, but the eventual reply was positive, if guarded. Father agreed that if her mother agreed to it, and that was yet to be seen, they could hold it in two days hence. When Darcy started to say something, Elizabeth quickly interrupted, having thought of something that would be agreeable to her mother, saying it would not be a problem.<p>

So it was on to the settlement. Elizabeth was surprised with what she heard, but not knowing much about these, couldn't tell if it was truly generous, or just her expectations were unusually low because of her prior situation. But when her father also voiced similar sentiments she realised just how lucky she was.

Even then, her father pointed out that Darcy had forgotten to allow for a specific amount for pin money. Darcy said it was deliberate, Elizabeth could spend whatever she wished as he would honour any amount. Mr Bennet was cynical, and asked even in twenty years? When Darcy was adamant he'd not change, Mr Bennet stood his ground, adding that something needed to be in the settlement, as this could be written to continue even after Darcy's own passing and thus would bind his heir. Her father was adamant that Darcy must accept a father's wishes are not always carried out by the son, particularly if it is not documented anywhere. She was surprised that having argued vehemently against it, Darcy suddenly conceded the point. When she quizzed him with a look, he mouthed one word 'Sumerville', which meant his capitulation made sense.

However, in correcting this 'mistake' Darcy chose what she thought was an outrageous sum. (As an aside to her, while smiling broadly, he did mention that this should probably not be treated as a spending target). When this figure was queried by her Father, Darcy said that if it was to be included, then that full amount would ensure that if there was ever an issue, she could live very comfortably, and provide for any of other offspring, in the case (heaven forbid) of the Darcy heir turning out like his eldest cousin.

It was obvious neither of gentlemen wanted to leave the sanctuary of her Father's office, as they then progressed to discussing trivial or irrelevant points, but they did need to go back to the others, or at least one of them did. So Elizabeth took pity on Darcy and excused herself, leaving them to carry on.

On re-entering the parlour Elizabeth saw the glazed looks of both Mr Gardiner and Mr Bingley and, in the general spirit of generosity engendered by Darcy settlement on her, she told them both her father had requested their presence in his office.

As they scurried off, Elizabeth sat next to Jane and conversed quietly, half listening to her mother prattle on about lace, ruffles, fabric, which are the best London warehouses, et al, while waiting for an opportunity to interrupt. When her Mother's enthusiasm started to tail off, particularly since this topic had been done to death in the weeks since Jane announced her own wedding, Elizabeth seized her opportunity to remark. "I'm not sure how much of this we can accomplish in just a day. Mr Darcy and I wish to wed this Saturday, and Father has agreed to it."

As Elizabeth imagined, Mother did not take this news well. But eventually her Mother calmed enough so she could explain that Darcy had gone to London, in part to arrange a Special Licence (a Special Licence! Elizabeth was sure her mother would dine out on that fact alone for weeks), but also to ensure he could accept invitations to several important events on their behalf as husband and wife. With a knowing smile Elizabeth added these included attending Lady Vivienne, the Dowager Countess of Matlock's eightieth birthday ball, and enumerated all the other noble ladies (in fact it was just a list of any name she could remember) who would also be attending. Seeing her Mother was mostly convinced, it took just the hint that, as Mrs Darcy, she could host events of her own, and wouldn't it be better to be able to have at least one this season rather than wait until next year?

Once mollified, Elizabeth watched as her Mother's considerable organisational powers came to the fore. As her Mother said, let no one think that the Bennet's cannot prepare a proper wedding breakfast, even with such short notice, suitable for her distinguished future son-in-law and a daughter that was companion to a Dowager Countess, no less.

So the rest of the evening, briefly interrupted by a shortened dinner, was spent planning the food and starting to prepare what decorations were possible in the time frame. At some point, Elizabeth was asked about what dress she would be wearing so she took them all up stairs to show off the gold silk dress she's worn that once at Pemberley, to the ooh's and aah's of those that hadn't seen it before. Meanwhile the men folk were set the task of writing out the invitations, thankfully a very short list, given it was almost exclusively locals. The Durrants were invited, but as they only lived in St Albans, no more than an hour trip, they should be considered locals.

Elizabeth asked Darcy for names to add to the list, but he replied most of those he'd want to invite were already here, or would be on their way tomorrow. Any others he considered worth inviting would only receive their letter after the wedding had occurred. When Elizabeth asked if he wanted to send an express to his other relatives in London, he took some time to answer. In the end, he thought it best not to invite the Earl or Countess, they would cause too much attention (and risk his aunt learning of it) and his Grandmother's health precluded her from ever making the trip. As for his own close friends, he didn't have that many, Bingley was here and there were few others he'd actually want to invite and, of these, most would be on their estates so wouldn't be able to make it. But Elizabeth insisted that he sent an invite by express to the few he thought likely to be in London. In the end they were very pleased that the Oxindens (Samuel was a fellow Derbyshire land owner, who also had inherited his lands young, although from a great uncle, with his new wife Matilda were in London) and the Featherstones both made the effort to get there. Two others that were sent invites were not in London after all, and with the Trenthams, they swore later that they'd never received it.

Wedding preparations started again first thing in the morning, Mrs Bennet already up, dressed and rousing all the other Bennet girls as Elizabeth exited the schoolroom with Aunt Gardiner. She shared a knowing look with her Aunt before they headed down to continue preparing Longbourn's public areas.

When the gentlemen came back from a morning ride, Mrs Bennet roped them into helping as well. Neither proved to be that adept at tying ribbons or arranging the cut flowers for the decorations, (that distinction had to go to Mary, Elizabeth could only think her long nimble fingers from hours of playing the pianoforte made her the most proficient, even if it was accompanied by homilies about not succumbing to the temptation of the frivolous, departing from the true path of sober living), but they did prove useful in putting them up. Darcy in particular as he could reach considerably higher than even Jane or Mr Bingley and didn't even need a chair to reach the picture rail. The gentlemen all showed a great deal of patience as Mrs Bennet often had them reposition each decoration numerous times before she was satisfied with its placement.

While the others continued after luncheon on things for the church, the decorations for Longbourn done, Elizabeth went with Darcy and her father to see the rector who presided at St Mary's Church, a short distance away at the western edge of the nearby village. As they got up to leave Mr Bingley said he needed to see the alternative to the London church he was considering, while Mr Gardiner didn't bother with an excuse, he just stated he was coming, to the eye rolling of his wife. So it was a larger than expected party that first met the Reverend Joseph Fisher, although the two additional gentlemen stayed in the church proper, while Elizabeth, Darcy and her father carried on into church office.

Reverend Fisher asked only few questions, and everything was arranged for a mid-morning wedding tomorrow without fuss or bother. He even offered to assist them with decorations, but Elizabeth was able to say that her mother had everything in hand.

Feeling sorry for the gentlemen, who were milling about, it was obvious none wanting to head back to Longbourn too soon, Elizabeth suggested that maybe they could call on the Lucas on the way home, to universal agreement.

Sir Lucas and Lady Lucas were all that was hospitable and effusive in their congratulations as was the rest of the family, as much as they seemed very pleased with their invitation. After suggesting it, Elizabeth started to worry how Charlotte would take the news. Would she see it as Elizabeth bragging about her good fortune? But Charlotte appeared genuinely pleased for her friend, so her worry possibly was for naught.

While they were sitting having tea, there was a point when attention was elsewhere, and Darcy leaned over and whispered, "Do you think you might ask Charlotte if she still wished to live with you? She could come with us to London. Do you think that she might be worried that with your situation changing, she'd no longer be welcome?"

"So soon after we wed?"

"Well Lizzie, there is an ulterior motive. I think we will be preoccupied and Georgiana might feel left out. But with Charlotte as a guest, Georgie will have a friend while we are otherwise engaged..."

Elizabeth could feel her cheeks flare with the very suggestion, and coughed several times to hide her discomfort. Giving him a back-handed thwap, "Please Will, not while we are in company... But yes I'll ask." while frantically but discretely, fanning her face.

And so when Charlotte returned with a new cup of tea, she did, to get rebuffed. While noticing Sir William take the men folk off to show off some improvement he'd made to the 'lower paddock' (an affectation by Sir William, Lucas Lodge only had one paddock), while Lady Lucas appeared to have been called away sometime earlier. Once it was only her and Charlotte, Elizabeth kept looking over her shoulder as, for some unknown reason, she had this dread that Mr Collins to burst into the room and propose to Charlotte on the spot. It was very distracting, but Charlotte appeared not to notice. But she persisted, tying to convince Charlotte that she was sincere and was not offering from any sense of obligation. To Elizabeth's frustration and despite all her efforts, all Charlotte would say was 'she'd think about it'.

Realising that she was getting nowhere, Elizabeth changed the subject and they talked on more mundane things until the gentlemen returned, which was their cue to return to Longbourn. The trip back took several detours, her father deciding to ask Darcy (in particular but included the others) to comment about some idea he'd recently consider regarding several of his own paddocks, which was best done while showing the areas in question. Elizabeth didn't mind the delay at all. Uncle Gardiner was good at keeping her father occupied, and Mr Bingley was happy to walk alone ahead of them, giving Her and Darcy plenty of private time while walking from one spot to the other.

So they didn't make it back to Longbourn until later in the afternoon, to see the Darcy coach in the yard, prompting Elizabeth, with Darcy and Mr Bingley in tow, hurry the rest of the way there. A reunion with Georgiana was something Elizabeth greatly anticipated, although it would have to wait for later as Darcy's sister was already happily sitting with Jane, Mary, Catherine and Lydia, chatting happily while assisting with the decorations. Mrs Annesley was with Mrs Bennet and Mrs Gardiner who were going over menus. While helping her sisters, Elizabeth found out that Richard had stayed only long enough to make the introductions and then excused himself, as he had a few things to arrange in Meryton. But he would be back later.

It was quite a bit later, more that an hour, when Richard arrived, entering the room in his typical manner, interrupting everyone by loudly exclaiming, "You'll never guess who I had the pleasure of meeting on the way..."

His big entrance was ruined as Sir William Lucas, Lady Lucas, Charlotte and Maria followed directly behind him, leaving him looking a bit peeved. As soon as they'd made their greetings Sir William disappeared in the direction of her father's office, while Charlotte hurried over to her, "Lizzie, I've decided to take you up on your offer, it is still on isn't it?"

"Of course Charlotte. I'm so glad."

"Thank you Lizzie. I am so looking forward to the next little while."

"Me too. It'll be full of changes. But good one."

"Yes. You're right. Um, Lizzie, I hope you don't mind but Mother is going to offer Mrs Bennet to help with the wedding breakfast, with the short notice and all."

"That's very thoughtful. But you didn't have to."

"But we did, it is… is a gift to you and Mr Darcy."

"Well thank you. But your mother may have some trouble convincing mine of the need for it."

"I think she will… watch."

They watched as Lady Lucas insisted more often than Mrs Bennet refused, so in the end Lucas Lodge would provide a number of dishes and wine from their own cellar for the wedding breakfast. When Lady Lucas assured Mrs Bennet that she knew she was only assisting, she was not after any credit, in fact they would not be letting anyone know they had provided anything, it clinched the deal and soon, the older ladies were discussing the best way of producing the expanded offering.

* * *

><p>Darcy sat back replete, looking over the remains of another well catered dinner, feeling very happy, even if the table was a little cramped, with the Lucas' attending as well, but they just added to the liveliness of the occasion. Whatever else he might say about his future mother-in-law, she certainly knew how to produce a well turned out table of food, the roast beef in particular was as good as any he'd had at Pemberley.<p>

Darcy was waiting for Mrs Bennet to indicate that the ladies would be withdrawing after dinner when Richard stood, and tapped his glass.

"I know this will be of great disappointment to the ladies, but Mr Darcy and I will be leaving to the Inn in Meryton tonight."

This announcement was met with a great deal of consternation, and cries of 'no!' but his cousin was resolute. "I'm sorry but it is very old military superstition. The groom needs to be away the night before the wedding and not to see his bride until they meet in the church the next day, otherwise it is very bad luck. So can you all humour an old solider?"

Darcy watched how the cries were now about Richard not being old, rather than disagreeing with his unwanted decision. He wasn't sure he agreed either, but was willing to go along. Richard looked very serious in his intent.

As they rode to the inn, at a point where Bingley was off ahead and O'Conner lagged behind, Darcy asked, "While I don't mind, why didn't you just ask me earlier?'

"I did it that way so if anyone got upset, they would blame me not you. Otherwise I could see you taking it on yourself to make the announcement. And I couldn't risk you making a mess of it and being talked into staying."

Well Darcy suppose you couldn't fault his logic. "But why was it so important that you get me to leave Longbourn."

"Several reasons. The 'superstition' is real, but I think that they do that for the enlisted men and the woman that follow the army, mainly because it makes a wedding day special, they are usually living in close proximity to each other right up to that point. Secondly, with your sister and Mrs Annesley there, Mrs Bennet will have run out of rooms, that is why, I hope you'll forgive me, but I had Wilkins and O'Connor move your stuff already."

"What?"

"Calm down Darcy. It was for the best. Mrs Bennet will be getting told as we speak, thus Georgiana and Mrs Annesley will get your room. Or would you be happy sending a couple of the Bennet sisters up into the attic? The Gardiners are already there."

"What? Why didn't any one tell me? I'd have moved to the inn earlier had I known."

"Don't worry Darcy, it was mostly the Gardiner's choice, they've been up there with their children since they first came, but you have to accept that Longbourn cannot cater to the same number that Pemberley or even Darcy House can."

"Yes I suppose so. But why do I fell like you've not told me all of it?"

"Because I haven't. Even if I didn't have motive for getting you out, I'd stay in the inn so I didn't have to share with you. You snore."

"I don't! You do."

"I know I do, but you'll have to accept that you do also. Poor Elizabeth, but I suppose you can get used to everything. O'Connor seems to be able to ignore me completely. But that is not the main reason. Can I ask you, what had you planned for tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night? What of it?"

"Oh Darcy! You're not going to tell me you've not thought about your wedding night? What, were you going to share a bed in that narrow cot in the room of yours, what with me alongside? Or were you going to visit Elizabeth while she shares a room with her sister?"

"Oh Lord!" Darcy felt his face flare red.

"Good Lord indeed! Bloody hell, Darcy. It is a good thing I bothered to think ahead isn't it. But don't worry it is all arranged. I've booked all the rooms on the quiet side of the inn for tonight and tomorrow. You've got the one with a 'great big bed'! The innkeeper assured me it's comfortable. I'll stay with O'Connor in the room next door, but only tonight. I've arranged to stay at Lucas Lodge tomorrow night."

"What? Err… Thanks. Um... Locus Lodge?"

"Yes. Sir William made me the generous offer earlier today. Made everything easier so I took him up on it. You'll appreciate the privacy of having that entire part of the inn to yourselves… You can thank me later…" With that, Richard thought the conversation should be over and he spurred his horse to a canter, forcing Darcy, Bingley and O'Connor to do the same to keep up.

Once at the inn, Richard proceeded to tell all those in the common room he was there to celebrate a gentleman's final night of freedom, then introduced Darcy as one gentleman getting married tomorrow, offering to pay for the entire assemblies drinks for the first part of the evening and handed the innkeeper a small pile of gold sovereigns. As could be imagined it was a riotous evening, Darcy the recipient of numerous toasts, some congratulatory, others commiserating for him. Bingley had a very good night, but this was his, and Richard's element. It was strange but he also felt very accepted by everyone there and grew to enjoy the camaraderie of the common men.

At some part of the evening, he mentioned he wondered how the ladies were getting on. To be told by Richard that he'd arranged for Miss Charlotte to ensure the ladies at Longbourn celebrated their night also, and Darcy was not to worry, Wilkins was going to ensure the Lucas's got home safely. Speaking of which, his cousin carried on, it looks like Bingley might also need a hand, and he'd ensure that O'Connor would be there to make sure Bingley made it back alright, or maybe it would be better for Bingley to stay here the night, he'd reserved rooms enough. They both looked over at Bingley, who already looked several sheets into the wind, and almost in unison both said 'staying here'.

* * *

><p>It would be impossible to record the tumultuous emotions that passed through both main protagonists the next morning in the small village church. As Reverend Fisher conducted the ceremony direct from the English Book of Common Prayer, somehow the occasion infused his words with purity and sanctity, as if direct from the divine.<p>

For Darcy, his Lizzie was incomparable, so radiant, so beautiful in a gold silk dress, with her gold and sapphire necklace match by the sprinkle of bright yellow daisy's and pale blue forget-me-nots intertwined through her hair.

For Elizabeth, her Will was everything a gentleman should be; strong, handsome, honourable, in his dark green coat and pale calfskin breeches. His very presence buoyed her heart and gave her strength to stand in front of everyone, given many knew of her past mistake.

For Amy-Jane, in a pretty blue dress she was wearing for the first time as flower-girl, it was a little bewildering, if a happy occasion. Mummy was happy, so that is all she needed.

For Bingley and Jane, best man and bridesmaid, while incredibly pleased for their friend or sister, the occasion meant they also thought of their own upcoming nuptials.

For the rest assembled there, it was tears of joy from the ladies, equally felt, if less visible, emotion from the gentlemen.

* * *

><p>The wedding breakfast was extremely well received by all those that attended. The Lucas's welcome additions ensured that the tables groaned with the weight of the food on offer, and the wine never ran out, even with the very large number guests, some of which Elizabeth didn't believe were actually invited, but had turned up for the free food and drink. Lady Lucas was good as her word, as Elizabeth noticed that all the Lucas's arrived later than most of the others, to give her mother a free rein in taking the compliments for the spread.<p>

But the wedding breakfast was mostly a blur of people, of congratulations and well wishes, and the occasional nibble on something in between yet another interruption. Darcy stayed by her side almost the entire time, if leaving a couple of times, both early in the piece, to find his cousin, the Colonel, who he'd not seen as yet, it was about some sort of arrangement, and again a little to ensure that his sister was not being overwhelmed by the events. Mentioning this made Elizabeth worry, but she was assured when he returned to say that Georgiana was well on the way to becoming firm friends with both Miss Catherine and Miss Maria and they were having a great time together.

At some point, she could not put a time to it, Darcy decided it was time enough and a very grateful Elizabeth was handed into the Darcy coach, and she waved farewell to everyone crowded around the front of Longbourn. Her mother was wailing as if her daughter was lost forever, and there was any number of tears from the other older ladies in the throng. But Elizabeth could see no reason for the tears, all she felt was elation, a new life, a new future lay out in front of her...

* * *

><p>There were three coaches returning to London, departing Monday, later in the morning than Darcy had hoped, there was always another thing missed or had to be sorted out before they were all finished. First off was the Darcy coach, with him and Mrs Darcy! (It was still very fresh and new, the both grinned every time they had to use the new appellation.) It didn't even feel odd having Amy-Jane in with them, it was like it had always been, and the young girl was very happy to be back with her mother, having been in the care (more likely spoiled rotten) by her grandmother for the last two days. Even Bessie sitting there up with Wilkins was like old times.<p>

The next was Richard in a hired a coach with Georgiana, Mrs Annesley, Miss Lucas and Miss Maria (somehow it was two for one with the Lucas's, although Darcy didn't mind, Georgiana and Maria had been near inseparable since Friday, and he had to promise to invite Catherine in the near future as she had gone home with the Durrants on Sunday). Unusually Richard joined them rather than riding, apparently he needed to keep them company. O'Connor sitting up with the coachman, both horses tied on behind, as was Cicero on the Darcy coach and Bingley's horse on his.

Finally there was Bingley in with Jane and the Gardiners back with him, although Mr Gardiner rode up top, as Bingley, Jane, Mrs Gardiner and the four Gardiner children filled up the interior. He also told Darcy as Darcy checked everyone was ready before leading off, it was not a problem, Darcy would get to the point where he'd appreciate the peace and quiet you get from being up here as he did.

Seeing them off was a sadly depleted crowd, only Mr Bennet, a wailing Mrs Bennet (again), a forlorn looking Lydia (still bemoaning not being allowed to go to either London or Brighton, this started as soon as she found out the travel arrangements when discussed over Sunday lunch) and finally, Sir William and Lady Lucas a little off to one side. Darcy thought he saw tears on Lady Lucas's cheek, but that was ridiculous, there was no reason... No, thinking about it, having her eldest come live with us, it was like she was going away, she'd not be back that often, although they would always try to pass through Hertfordshire to and from Pemberley. They all remained there as far as he could see, and he imagined well after they had disappeared from sight.

The journey took far longer as three coaches travelling together than alone. There was always another reason to stop, people needing a break or requiring a comfort stop. Even lunch, taken early carried on for a considerable time, as they were all mindful they were going to part ways as soon as they arrived in London. Bingley was headed home, although Darcy was certain he'd more likely to spend all his free hours at the Gardiners where Jane was. Richard asked over lunch if he could stay with them at Darcy House for now, with the situation with Lady Catherine looming, and Darcy had no problem agreeing, it was not as if they had to make up a room for him, both Darcy House and Pemberley had one permanently set aside for his cousin for many years now.

It was unfortunate, but couldn't be helped, that the hired coach lost a wheel about an hour out of London, thankfully just outside a coaching inn, so help was at hand. Darcy offered to transfer the occupants around and the gentlemen ride, but no one was that keen on parting ways, and stood around talking, and watching the coach be repaired. So it near dusk when the travellers all arrived at Darcy House. Darcy felt sorry for the servants, having waited around for what must have been hours to greet their new mistress, but none of them showed any sign of it.

* * *

><p>Darcy was very pleased with what the staff had done with the Master's and Mistress's rooms, although had Elizabeth declined to use hers to sleep, staying in his rooms all last night, although she was there now with Bessie getting prepared for the new day. Darcy found he very much approved of this arrangement and hoped would never change, however an unusual it was. When he first showed Elizabeth her rooms, he told her that she could change anything and everything she wanted to. But Elizabeth declined, saying the rooms were wonderful as they were. Darcy encouraged her to make her mark, as that was expected of the new mistress, but she wanted to keep it the way it was... for now. Although agreed with his sentiments and said that later, when she'd spent some time here, more used to her change in circumstances and better acquainted with what was possible, then she'd think about it.<p>

As he prepared for day, Darcy was interrupted by Steele delivering an urgent note from the Earl, saying he was told in the strongest terms the Master must read this immediately. Given his Uncle was not prone to exaggeration Darcy opened it, leaving the cravat hanging loosely about this neck.

_Darcy,_

_I am sorry to have to inform you of this, but Lady Catherine has posted a betrothal notice between you and Anne in today's Times. Please come around to Matlock House at your earliest convenience as I feel we need to discuss the nature of the joint retraction that will have to be placed in the Times, and I imagine a few other newspapers as well._

_In with this, the Countess reports rumours of you taking a mistress continue and her and Mother have not been able to determine whence these are being promulgated. I tell you this only as I think we need to word your retraction to cover both falsehoods._

_Matlock_

What!?

Darcy had to read it several times before it registered. His Aunt had placed a notice saying he was to marry Anne in The Times! Why on earth did she think that would work on him, he'd never know. Even if he was still unmarried, it would no more likely to make him marry Anne, than any of her other actions to date. Now Anne would be labelled a jilted woman, lowering her chance of marrying anyone else. Even the inducement of Rosings Park may not be enough.

And then the other rumours continued, making it a real quagmire. It was a pity the originator hadn't been found. He had hoped, but never really expected his Grandmother and Aunt to find who it was, given the list of those that want desired his hand was long and the rumours were general enough that any number could be the source. At least now he was wed, the rumours only had the power to annoy not disrupt a future wedding. But Elizabeth's acceptance by the ton was always going to be difficult, look at the Featherstones as an example, and this just made it worse.

But what to do? He'd best tell Elizabeth straight way, she might have some idea. So without thinking he went straight through into her rooms, to the inevitable shriek as he caught Elizabeth in just a chemise, her dress still gathered up in Bessie's arms. While being shoed from the room, Darcy was told she'd be there as soon as she was presentable. Darcy supposes this is another thing he'd never understand about women, he seen her in much less only a little earlier, and she hadn't minded at all, in fact was quite happy with the view afforded by the full morning light, just as he was.

* * *

><p>Less than an hour later found Darcy and Elizabeth standing together in the Earl's office, as Darcy broke the news to his Uncle, in the best way he thought possible, greeting the Earl with, "Uncle, I'd like you to meet Mrs Darcy, my wife! We married quietly this Saturday past."<p>

The Ear took a moment, before coming around the desk to heartily congratulate them both. That surprised Darcy a little; he was expecting some reluctance to welcome Elizabeth into the family. The Earl then asked they tell more of what had occurred, so Darcy gave a short version of the events leading up to their wedding. He'd planned to stop there, but the Earl wanted to know about the wedding, so he had to continue.

When Darcy finished the Earl had a number of questions about the marriage itself, their ages, the Special Licence, the witnesses, the Reverend and the ceremony itself, all of which Darcy was able to answer to his satisfaction. In the silence that followed his questions, the Earl sat back nodding, a smile forming on his lips.

"As I've said before congratulations, I am very happy for you both. But most importantly the marriage itself cannot be contested, so this…" and he lifted a copy of The Times folded so a circle notice was prominent, "this…" he sighed, "words escape me… I've not been so angry since… since… Sumerville. That was worse, but only just." He rubbed his temple as he frowned, "Well Darcy and Mrs Darcy…"

"Call me Elizabeth, my Lord."

"If you call me Uncle, none of this 'my Lord' for family."

"If that is your wish Uncle."

"It is. Well Darcy, Elizabeth, I'm not really sure what we can do about this. What have you thought of doing?"

Darcy explained they had discussed it on the way over. They agreed the best plan was to ignore it as if it never happened. A retraction would draw attention to the betrothal notice, and in the same way ignore any of rumours being spread, the knowledge of their marriage would put paid to those as well. At this stage Darcy and Elizabeth thought they should just do what any other couple would do; put in a marriage notice and choose an event to introduce Mrs Darcy to the ton, although this should be done sooner rather than later, as that would minimise the speculation.

The Earl was reluctant to forgo a retraction, but was made to see the value of the Darcy's approach. When asked which event they'd considered, Darcy had to plead they'd not thought that far through, although it was his problem, Elizabeth was not receiving invitations of her own (yet) and he'd not bothered to sort through the pile that would be sitting in his office waiting for him. The Earl requested their indulgence (which was granted) and asked his wife to attend them.

When the Countess arrived she was apprised of their news. On hearing this she congratulated them, although Darcy noticed she was not as welcoming as her husband. (Darcy worried was this was a sign of how the ton would treat Elizabeth? If it was, he realised at that moment, he would be happy to turn his back on the ton in turn, quit London for good and retire to Derbyshire with Elizabeth). But as the Countess heard more of what happened, it was obvious she was almost as angry with Lady Catherine as the Earl, and so became quite enthused about helping, in the end suggesting Lady Henrietta's ball as the solution; it was only tomorrow night, everyone who is anyone would attend a ball given by the Dowager Countess of Fenwick, even her mother-in-law Lady Vivienne would be there and having the ton see her congratulating them would counter any number of nay-sayers. But, most importantly, Lady Catherine would be there and could be made to eat humble pie. Darcy wondered if there was more to his Aunt's relish at seeing her sister-in-law taken down a peg or two than for what had just been done, but thought it best politic not to ask. Darcy thought Elizabeth had the same thought, from the way she raised her eyebrows at the mention of this last item in favour of this particular event.

As his Aunt got up to leave, she asked the names of their party so she could ensure the correct invites were produced. Darcy left it to Elizabeth to name them, and she did, all of them. He thought maybe his Aunt would balk when Elizabeth said she would like all or any of Bingley and Jane, the Featherstones, Mr and Mrs Gardiner and Miss Lucas to attend, but it appeared not. The Countess ensuring she got all their directions before leaving, explaining she'd go around to Lady Henrietta's immediately as there was little time to lose. Just before she went out the door she stopped and turned and addressed Elizabeth, telling her to ensure her lady guests had suitable attire, and if they didn't, they should come over later today so she could have her own, Sophie's or Vickie's old garments, and there were many to choose from, altered to fit, as there would not be enough time to make up entirely new ones in the time, and given they were here anyway, would they all like to stay for dinner?

Elizabeth thanked her for the offer, both for themselves and behalf of her friends or family, and said she'd ensure they came and, although she had a dress she wanted to wear already, it would be appreciated if the Countess (call me Anne) could advise what, if anything needed to be done to make it suitable. Soon after, Elizabeth also excused herself, say she also needed to go to see each of the people mentioned to ensure they did accept this invitation, going from nowhere, as it were.

Once Elizabeth had left, his Uncle tried again to convince Darcy to put in a retraction, and made some good points, but as he and Elizabeth had decided on not doing so, Darcy would not agree to a change without her being part of the discussion. When the Earl realised he was not getting anywhere, he asked Darcy about Richard's prospects instead. Knowing how annoyed he was with others deciding his life for him (and mindful of what they'd overheard) Darcy was very non-committal and made no allusions to knowing his cousin's views on matrimony, so the Earl changed the subject to marriage itself, and how he was finding these first few days and his new wife, something Darcy was quite prepared to wax lyrical about.

Part way through Darcy elucidating some of Elizabeth's finer points, the Earl held up a hand for him to stop and gestured someone into the room, with a "Good Richard, you're finally here."

"Well, greetings to you as well father."

"I need to talk to you…" The Earl went on to explain what his sister had done and the predicament that put the family in given that Darcy was wed, abet prior to the notice being published. "So there it is Richard… What do you think we should do?"

His cousin made a production about thinking of what he should do, glancing Darcy's way. Darcy subtly shook his head and frowned. Richard pretended to think some more before replying, "Do? Do we need to do anything? What do you think Darcy?"

"I agree with you Richard, we don't need to do anything."

"See father, Darcy and I are in complete agreement."

"Bah, you two are in cahoots together. Alright, I concede Darcy. We do nothing. Well nothing as far as a notice goes, but when Lady Catherine does find out her plan has failed, she'll be after you Richard."

"Who me!?" Richard said in fake surprise. Darcy thought he'd overplayed it, but the Earl didn't notice.

"Yes you, Richard. Unfortunately, knowing that Darcy would not be marrying Anne, in a moment of weakness, I suggested you as a replacement. But that is NOT to happen! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly Father."

"Even if she offers Rosings Park as an inducement?"

Richard rolled his eyes, "Father I can assure you that I will not EVER be married to my cousin."

"Good. I have your word on it?"

"On my honour Father, I can guarantee I'll not wed Anne, whatever my Aunt offers, not for all the tea in China."

"Great. Now don't worry Richard, I know what I've asked you to turn down. Thank you. That damnable woman will not profit from today's stupidity, even if as a consolation."

"I'm so happy to be considered the consolation prize."

"Only against Darcy lad. I've some ideas on what you are worth, we'll discuss it later."

"Certainly. Was there anything else Father? I've not got long before I have to brief my superiors."

"I suppose not. I just wanted to ensure I told you before she tried anything else. Oh, I might as well have you hear this, although I was going to tell only Darcy…"

Richard stood there as the Earl gave them both his take on marriage. It was not romantic, although he recognised that ladies were emotional creatures and a gentleman must make an effort to ensure his wife's needs were met, so be gentle and patient with her, encouraging her with kind words and little gifts as an essential part of being a husband. With that, you must try to recognise the competence of your wife, do not doubt that most ladies are as strong and as resilient as gentlemen, the act of childbirth proved that, it is just that they are trained for domestic realm. He went on to praise the Countess as being the embodiment of this, and his sister, the late Mrs Darcy, and that both of them could learn, and if need be, guide, their own wives to be like their own mothers. Although he did add that the current Mrs Darcy seemed well on the way already.

Darcy was surprised to see this side of his uncle, and it looked as if Richard was the same. His advice led to questions, which the Earl appeared to answered very truthfully. It was very interesting to see how much he relied on his wife and the esteem he held her, but he was also honest about the not so pleasant parts of marriage as well. However good the advice, it did make Darcy miss his Father all the more, knowing that he'd never be able to ask his father these questions.

But the questions ended, and an uncomfortable silence descended. What topic can you talk about after this? So Richard took his leave, prompting Darcy to do the same, although he did mention that he would be back with Mrs Darcy and the other guests for dinner tonight. As he went, the Earl asked if they might come early and bring Amy-Jane with them, he'd make sure there was a bed for her here, to which Darcy gave a tentative yes, but felt he'd need to check with Elizabeth first. At this response, his Uncle chuckled and said Darcy had passed the first test.

* * *

><p>Elizabeth, Darcy and Amy-Jane turned up to Matlock House earlier than the others, as requested, giving the Earl and Countess the time the desired with their daughter. Amy-Jane was still excited from the afternoon being spoilt by Lady Vivienne, who spent as much time amusing her great-grand child as she did congratulating either of them. Elizabeth smiled now, thinking of the earthy comments the Dowager had made to her grandson. It was funny watching him squirm as the Dowager Countess poke him with her cane while saying he'd better produce an heir or two and if he didn't we'd all know whose fault that was given there was already proof of her own fertility. Thankfully there was not too much of this, far more was good natured advice of how to be a good husband or wife.<p>

As they waited for the others to arrive, they sat chatting with the Countess while the Earl sat on the floor playing with a five year old. Elizabeth saw the way Darcy looked at his Uncle, partly surprise, but heartening, part envy, which made her feel very happy she'd made the right choice. Amy-Jane was allowed to stay for a short while when the others arrived, but before long she was taken by Hannah, who had become her de-facto nursemaid to the Matlock schoolrooms.

They were waiting for the Featherstones to arrive (this delay was known in advance) before Elizabeth and the other ladies would go upstairs to show off, or try on, their dresses, while a seamstress and several assistants helped update or fit what they were to wear tomorrow night. Elizabeth hoped the gold silk dress she'd bought along to show the Countess would prove suitable, she desperately wanted to use Darcy gift on her first presentation to the ton.

But before the Featherstones arrived, Lady Sophie returned home from her afternoon excursion, and was introduced. As it happened, the Countess got to Elizabeth and Darcy last. Elizabeth watch as they came over, Lady Sophie's displeasure at the status of the other guests was plain to see. As she approached, Elizabeth heard her say, in a voice loud enough so that it was meant to be overheard, "Why are you bringing me here Mother? I know her already."

The Countess ignored her daughter's rudeness, "Sophie, I would like to introduce you to Mrs Elizabeth Darcy. Mrs Darcy, my..."

"What!" screeched Lady Sophie, "You're not Mrs Darcy!"

Simultaneously, the Countess said, "She is." as Darcy standing alongside her said, "She is without doubt my wife, cousin."

On hearing this Sophie cried out, "No! No! It's not true! It can't be! You are all lying!" Elizabeth was shocked at this hysterical display. Was this what she was to expect tomorrow night?

The Countess reacted, saying sternly "Sophie! You will cease this right now!"

But Sophie didn't, and carried on in the same vein for in time it took for her Father to hurry over and yell. "Stop NOW!"

"I won't! I won't! She's just a..." what Sophie thought was interrupted by the firm 'slap' the Earl administered before grabbing Sophie by the arm and frog marching her out the door as his daughter cried hysterically. Followed just a little later by his very apologetic wife.

The Earl was the first to return, to find the room still in shocked silence. He apologised profusely, first to her, then to Darcy and then the other guests. This done, normal conversation returned, abet slowly. Darcy was very solicitous towards her, which went some way to alleviate Elizabeth's concerns. The Featherstone's arrival returned the room to good cheer, as their entrance bought welcome change to the previously oppressive atmosphere.

Sometime later the Countess returned and walked over towards her. Elizabeth noticed as she did so, Darcy, who had been talking with Richard, excused himself to move to beside her, his hand on her shoulder. The Countess was very apologetic, going on to explain that Lady Sophie had the mistaken idea that Darcy was intended for her friend Miss Trent, in fact, had promised him to her friend. Then though some misguided logic her daughter spread the rumours that had caused so much trouble in the deluded idea that this would make Darcy abandon her for her friend. Finding out her plans had come to naught was the catalyst for her unseemly behaviour, and the Countess could only apologise once again.

Elizabeth felt, as a guest, she should make a gesture of kindness, "Don't worry Lady Anne, it didn't signify, the sooner forgotten the sooner mended. I understood that Lady Sophie is still young and will get over this disappointment in time."

To that the Countess replied, "She will certainly have plenty of time to get over it, Sophie will be spending the rest of the year, in fact, until the next season starts, in Scotland helping her older sister with her new baby, leaving at the end of the week."

Elizabeth disagreed with the Countess, "Lady Anne, it was only a minor matter, just a small amount of embarrassment, so no harm done. I do worry that sending her away would cause resentment later. I am happy to forgive, an apology would be enough."

"It is very gracious offer, but it is not for tonight that I feel she needs time away, it is her spreading deliberate, hurtful untruths that need to be addressed, and I think it would be best for Sophie to spend a little time away from London and her friends. Time with my older daughter Victoria will do wonders with her."

Elizabeth felt it worth trying so had one last attempt, "Lady Anne might Lady Sophie be allowed back at Christmas? I was hoping to convince my dear Darcy to host our various families at Pemberley this year, and that would include Lady Victoria's family as well. It would not be fair to leave your youngest daughter in Scotland, and if she was good, maybe you could see yourself clear to allow her to return with you instead of returning north for just a month or two?"

"I'll think about it."

"That is all I ask. And maybe you could delay her leaving until after Lady Vivienne's birthday? I am sure Lady Vivienne would prefer to see as much of her family there as she can. It's not like you turn eighty more than once?"

"Hmm... you raise a good point. Yes, I suppose it would be best to delay her departure, that way we can have Richard take leave enough to ensure she is properly escorted on the ship north. Yes, I'll do that. Not that Sophie would be all that happy about the delay, her activities will be severely, and I mean severely, restricted until she goes. But I appreciate your advice, more so as you were the injured party. Please accept our apologies again on her behalf. Maybe later, she'll be in the right mind to do so herself, but for now I mine and my husband's apologies will have to suffice."

"Of course Lady Anne. As I have already said, it is no big thing."

Apologies made and accepted they went on to talk of inconsequential things for a few minutes before the Countess took her and the other ladies off to get fitted for suitable dresses. The countess was a considered arbitrator of each garment chosen. For Mrs Gardiner's she said it was fine enough already to not need any alteration. With Mrs Featherstone hers only needed a few flounces and extra lace to be acceptable. Charlotte, having nothing suitable, had one of Sophie's dresses taken in and shortened in a colour that flattered her very well. Jane was embarrassed that nothing she had ordered was ready, but Lady Anne replied she understood with them only arriving in London a day ago, thus this offer. In the end Jane was convinced to choose one of Victoria's dresses, they were of similar height and shape so it only needed few tucks here and there and a minimum of work to update for this season, being a few years old. Elizabeth was relieved that her gold silk dress would be acceptable, and fought the addition of lace, even a little, but agreeing, if a little sceptical to a pattern of seed pearls over the bodice, not wanting to put the seamstress to extra, most likely, unnecessary work.

Dresses organised, they returned downstairs to have dinner, sans Lady Sophie. It was an enjoyable evening, if still a little stilted from what had happened, and not surprisingly, everyone chose to leave early.

* * *

><p>It was mid-afternoon the following day when Darcy, having finally finished the day's correspondence, retired to the library. He found himself alone, Elizabeth had departed to Matlock House for a final fitting on the dress she was to wear tonight along with Miss Lucas, and even though nothing to do with her, Georgiana as well. He did ask, but she wouldn't say which dress it was, or even if it was one she owned or one of his cousins. He hoped it was the gold silk dress she wore both at Pemberley and their wedding, as it had very specific associations for him already.<p>

As Darcy read The Times, a little wary with what he might find in its pages, his cousin bound in with a cheery "A very fine afternoon to you Darcy. It's a good day to be alive!"

"Good afternoon Richard. What has you in such a good mood?"

"Had a talk with Father. Very helpful it was too."

"So… What is it?"

"Oh, I suppose it would not harm if I tell you. You know how Father mentioned he'd speak to me later, well later was today."

"Later?"

"You know about missing out on Anne with Rosings Park included."

"Oh yes of course." Darcy recalled the Earls stricture.

"Well, anyway, I talked to him and he said he'd been thinking about my situation. So I asked, knowing what he'd told Aunt Catherine, what were the chances of a second son being able to marry the daughter of the nobility, with a healthy father and a married heir with the prospect of more? I was strongly considering marrying another merchant's daughter to be able to afford an estate of my own. You should've seen his reaction, good Lord it was funny!"

"That's cruel Richard, well unless you actually are…"

"Not on your life Darcy, I have my standards. Nothing less than the daughter of Sir Somebody for me, and I told him so. Once he'd calmed enough to appreciate my little jest, we got to talking about what type of estate I'd need to be able to marry the right lady. I promised him if he'd see clear to letting me have one of the smaller properties, I could guarantee I'd marry the daughter of Sir or Lord Somebody. I did point out she'd revert to plain Mrs Fitzwilliam once the deed was done, so even with an estate as an inducement, and his and Sumerville good health, I couldn't aim too high, and he agreed in the end."

Darcy could imagine how the Earl would have had to have be convinced of that, having a higher opinion of the Matlock name that was probably warranted,

"But then" Richard continued, "I pointed out Uncle Henry as an example, since all the property bar one or two minor ones would pass to Uncle Julian in time, he had four daughters to get off his hands, at least two with just a dowry, so with an estate I had a chance with a duke's daughter.

"You wouldn't!?"

"No of course not! I'd not marry any of those termagants, and made it clear once Father started to get ideas, but explained it was the idea that mattered. If I had an estate of my own…"

"You could marry a lady of that rank?"

"That was what I hoped he'd think. He didn't, out and out, offer at that point, but this is were my genius showed through, you know how he hates the idea of the Matlock lands being spilt up over subsequent generations I offered that the estate he gifted me would be only for the period of my or my wife's natural life, after that it reverts back to the Matlock estate…"

"And he agreed to that?'

"Oh yes, in fact he was quite enthusiastic once I explained, knowing that it was not going to be passed on to my heirs, so there would not be any actual loss of Matlock lands. If I manage use the proceeds to provide for them in my own way it right there'll be something for… my wife and any daughters. If there are any sons I'll encourage them to join the army and go to India. There they can earn a fortune and so a piddling estate in England is neither here or there."

"Congratulations. So did he suggest a property?"

"Once he agreed to it, I pre-empted it by giving him my choice. My thought is either Alfreton Manor, although the better of the two, it is rather close to Matlock as it is still in Derbyshire, or Rufford Abbey, which is a bit further away in Nottinghamshire, but as it only passed to Father via Lord… What's-his-name, you know, Great-Aunt Elizabeth's brother-in-law… anyway doesn't matter his name, but it's been neglected and would need several years before it showed its full potential. I actually favour the second, as once set up right it would earn half again as much as Alfreton. What do you think?"

"Hmm… Alfreton Manor is a nice property although the home farm is small and some of the rented lands are not best utilised, what it earns now would be hard to improve on. I don't know Rufford, so I wouldn't like to say. But I will say that you are better to take a poor property and improve it that a fully developed one if the income is about the same now. If you end up with Rufford I'm happy to visit and make a few suggestions."

"Well I am hoping to get the Abbey, and if I do, I'll hold you to it. Actually I'd like you to visit which ever he decides, as your advice would be invaluable. Anyway, Father would not give me an answer immediately, but promised he'd decide by Friday. He is trying to get me to promise to quit the army before he'd decide on which one, but I deferred, saying my own decision depended on which estate he decided on."

"So you'd resign if you get Rufford?"

"Not on your life, but I didn't tell Father that. I just want him to think I would if I did. Please don't let on, Darcy, I'm not sure I am ready to settle down and Napoleon needs beating."

"I'm not sure Richard. You know how I don't…"

"…like to lie. Yes I know. This isn't lying. I've only implied that I'd quit, I never promised, and I will resign one day, just not now. So you could prevaricate if asked, say you think I probably resign if given an estate that needs a lot of work. There, that's not lying is it?"

"Alright Richard, I can say that. But I hope I'm not asked at all."

"Good man. So that is why I am so happy. As of Friday I'll be a man of property. Hey Darcy this calls for a drink…" Darcy watched as Richard strode over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a libel glass of whiskey and a much more reasonable brandy for him.

* * *

><p>Darcy paced in their room while waiting to be told he could enter her dressing room. Elizabeth had returned early in the evening, still secretive about what she'd be wearing. He'd tried to peek, but Bessie must have taken the dress up the back way as he saw nothing. While she prepared, he'd come upstairs after seeing the others off and got ready himself. Bingley, Jane and the Gardiners had been at Darcy House for an early dinner, before going off with Richard and Miss Lucas to Lady Henrietta's. This was all part of their Aunt's plan; they should be there before it started to give time for the Darcy coach to return so Darcy and Elizabeth could arrive once the ball itself had started. This ensured Lady Catherine would be there, and they'd make a most noticeable entrance.<p>

Bessie popped her head around the door to let him know he could now come in.

As he entered, Darcy stared open mouthed at her appearance, Elizabeth looked spectacular. Taking some moments to get his brain working he was slow at complimenting her but she didn't seem to mind, saying she'd not considered the dress needed improvement, but conceded that Lady Anne was right, and the additions the seamstress did by working all night had been worth it.

He then nearly disturbed all of Bessie's good work by embracing her tightly while fiercely kissing her. Darcy noticed Elizabeth still didn't use Mary, who was far better at creating the usual elaborate hairstyles of the ton, Bessie's were a simplified version of the classical styles, but thinking about it, they did suit Elizabeth better, so he supposed he approved this way of doing it. When Elizabeth managed to get her hands up to separate them, although laughing so he knew there was no hard feelings, she checked herself in the mirror while saying, "I take this exuberant greeting means you approve of it then?"

"Yes I do, of it and you very much, and in equal measure. Now you only need some final adornment."

Seeing the seed pearls in her bodice Darcy knew exactly what jewellery to point out, first there was a delicate pearl and sapphire tiara, a number of hair pins with similar sized pearl ends, a pair of pearl earrings, a beautiful elaborate platinum and sapphire broach and several sapphire or pearl rings, all complimented the necklace he'd given her earlier.

After spending the time to convince Elizabeth that this was her jewellery, not his mother's (no, not his mother's any longer he explained, this was all her own now, she seemed taken aback at this suggestion). In the end the only jewellery she chose to wear was the necklace he'd given her when he proposed, the pair of pearl earrings and the pretty if small sapphire and diamond ring. Darcy tried to suggest other pieces, but she told him it felt silly to wear more than was necessary, just to flaunt your wealth, even if all the other ladies did it."

He never felt so proud, as he lead her downstairs and out into the coach (noticing the many admiring glances from the servants tucked in all of the possible alcoves on the way), as they chatted about nothing much. He knew he was covering for being nervous, and suspected she was too.

His Aunt must have made special arrangements as they went around the back of Beaufort House rather than up the front stairs, and were led through the back ways by the Fenwick butler himself, to wait in anteroom just off the ballroom entrance. At a break in the dance programme (Darcy found out later it was after the third dance) he escorted them to the top of the steps leading down to the dance floor, and in a senatorial voice declared, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy!"

The entire ballroom went deadly quiet, most looked up at them as he carefully led Elizabeth down onto the floor, although with their elevation he could see many over in the far right turn instead towards someone that could only be Lady Catherine.

The first voice to speak clearly was his Grandmother, having risen to her feet at the announcement, she stepped towards them, saying clear enough for most to hear, "Congratulations to you both. I am very happy to welcome you, Mrs Darcy to our family. Although I must question your intelligence as you accepted my grandson as a husband."

"You are too kind Lady Vivienne, but I fear you are too harsh on my husband. He has many fine qualities."

"I suspect Mrs Darcy I am too old to appreciate a number of them. Still I hope you are as happy in your choice as it is obvious he is in his."

Darcy felt it best to intervene before his Grandmother said any more, "Thank you Grandmother, I am more than happy to introduce her to you, and to the rest of my family. It is a pity you could not attend our wedding last week, but Mrs Darcy father had a serious fall only recently, so we thought it best to marry sooner and at her home, than here later."

"I am sure it was necessary Fitzwilliam… Mrs Darcy I hope your father is recovering."

He stood there, noticing everyone was listening intently as Elizabeth replied, "He is now Lady Vivienne. We were both very pleased he was well enough to be there at the church when we wed, but that was never certain."

"Well the Lord works in mysterious ways, much like people really." The Dowager then turned her attention to the far right, drawing herself up to her full height, she exclaimed loudly. "Lady Catherine?"

There was a pause before his Aunt replied with a tentative, "Yes Mother."

"A word of advice; next time you look to put a betrothal notice in the paper, best if you consult the groom first." She finished with a thump of her cane on the floor, then headed back to her chair, taking Darcy's arm on one side and Elizabeth's on the other, while the whispering started, increasing to the usual level of noise and then surpassed it as everyone talked about what just had happened.

Darcy could almost felt sorry for his Aunt. She had been publicly humiliated, but she bought it on herself, and who was he to school his Grandmother in what was appropriate? He did, however, feel for Anne, even if Grandmother's words clearly prevented Anne from gaining the reputation as a jilt, what sensible gentleman would want Lady Catherine as a mother-in-law?

There was a longer than normal break before the next set started, until Darcy realised they were all expecting him to take Elizabeth out on the floor. Once he had done so the dance floor filled quickly and the opening bars started.

Darcy expected he might have to cover for Elizabeth, but she made no mistakes, in fact watch for hers, he nearly did so himself. Seeing how silly that was he gave up and just enjoyed the pleasure of dancing the familiar forms with his wife. As the set ended he noticed that Jane and Bingley had stood up for this set, and Richard had been all that was kind and stood up with Miss Lucas.

Dancing with Elizabeth was heaven. Darcy never wanted it to end. But end it did. He led her over to his Grandmother, meeting up with Bingley and Jane, as well as Richard and a very flushed excited looking Miss Lucas. In this light, and with her fashionable gown and slippers, plus what appeared to be a few Matlock pieces of jewellery she looked almost handsome, the excitement showing in her eyes adding depth and interest to her face.

With only the chance to rest a moment before the next set started, Darcy requested Miss Jane's hand while Bingley took out Elizabeth. Damn, that left Richard and Miss Lucas standing there awkwardly, but there was not much he could do about it now. Interestingly he saw Lord Fenwick led Miss Lucas out, while Richard took out Lady Susan Goldsby (reputed to be Lord Fenwick's paramour, Sir Goldsby most likely already resorting to writing notes from playing too deep in the gaming room).

From that point on Darcy took care to ensure that Miss Lucas had a partner if he could help it, taking her out while glaring impotently at Sir Seabrook's back as he was where Darcy would have preferred to be, dancing with Elizabeth. Elizabeth must have noticed his attention as she flashed her eyes at him whenever they passed in the set, and once, where it should not be noticed, she poked her tongue out at him, nearly causing him to stumble.

While suffering an overwhelming number of inane congratulations during each break, it was nothing to the difficulty Darcy felt each time Elizabeth took another partner out on the floor, although Bingley, Richard or the Earl didn't provoke the same reaction. But thankfully Elizabeth seemed to know exactly what to say to each well-wisher so his taciturn nature did not signify, and he supposed he would have to get used to her dancing with other gentlemen, he could not take her out each and every dance, as much as he wanted to. But soon enough it was the supper dance, and they reverted to their original pairings, He with Elizabeth, Bingley back with Jane and Richard left to escort Miss Lucas out. Even Mr and Mrs Gardiner joined this set, and as normal the supper dance was a veritable crush.

They all took a table together for supper, Darcy joining the other gentlemen in bringing a plate over to their lady. When he returned from getting his own he found Lady Jersey at their table with Lady Vivienne, giving Elizabeth, who wasn't really a debutante but was being treated as one anyway, permission to waltz all the same. As Lady Jersey departed she said in the spirit of the night, all the ladies at the table could do so. Darcy didn't think this charade was necessary, but the Ton put a lot of stock on these things, so it was best just to play along.

Their supper conversation was lively, if still being interrupted by well wishers. This surprised Darcy, it certainly felt like he'd been congratulated by everyone in attendance twice over already, but there were several more of them every few minutes. Even a number of those ladies who had held out hope he'd consider them came over and gave genuine (sounding) congratulations, a few others made grudgingly given best wishes, and a few, Lady Catherine and her few friends in their number, conspicuous in avoiding them completely, which was no loss at all.

The reason for Lady Jersey's visit came apparent as the second dance after supper was announced as a waltz. For this Darcy didn't care about tradition, he'd be dancing this waltz and every other with Elizabeth and told her so. She just laughed and said she'd not dream of it being any other way. His eagerness meant they were almost the first couple out on the floor, but he didn't care what anyone thought, he could twirl his love in his arms, and that was all that mattered.

Darcy was so engrossed in waltzing with Elizabeth, it was a perfect dance for a newly married couple, one so in love as they were, that it took nearly the full set before he realised Richard was dancing a third set with Charlotte, and a waltz, no less! Darcy became aware of the whispers, and the glances and frowns of those that had also noticed.

As soon as the set was finished Darcy strode quickly after his cousin. Richard had cavalierly left Charlotte to make her own way over to join Elizabeth while his cousin wandered off towards the refreshments. Charlotte was grinning widely, even as Darcy noticed Elizabeth frowning at her friend.

"Richard," hissed Darcy, as he caught up to his cousin, "What do you think you are doing? That was your third dance with Miss Lucas. She's ruined, you've compromised her." Darcy noticed how he and Richard had drawn a considerable crowd.

"No I've not compromised her, not in the slightest." Richard replied in a speaking tone, completely unperturbed, oblivious of those crowding around them.

"Yes, you have." Whispered Darcy in reply, "You can't dance three times without there being a betrothal announcement."

"But," said Richard in a louder voice, one that was easy to hear by the various parties that had come to be first with this juicy on-dit, "I can't compromise her... you see... Charlotte's my wife!"

And with Darcy and all about stunned into silence, Richard carried blissfully on.

**Finis**

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it. <strong>

**The ending dozen paragraphs (exactly as they are here) were written nearly a year ago. Since then I was just writing the bits in between. I hope I was able to give you a pleasant surprise, as everyone knows that Darcy and Elizabeth, and Bingley and Jane will get married, but you may not have expected Richard and Charlotte. If it seems out of place, re-read the previous chapters, there are a few clues to what happened between Richard and Charlotte, or you can always ask me. **

**Writing this has been great fun, even though it took much longer and ended up being far longer than I ever anticipated nearly 2½ years ago, starting with a plot outline and a first post 20****th**** June 2011. Since then I've learned a great deal, much from your reviews or the PM's – thank you very much for them, I appreciated every one, and I attribute many changes or additions to them. It's also been frustrating at times, when the words didn't come and I spent hours writing and re-writing only to realise it was rubbish and deleted it. But knowing I had readers waiting for the next chapter I persevered, and this is the end result.  
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**For those that are only reading it now it is complete, I am very interested in your views, please post a review or send me a PM with your impression. **

**I have ideas for 'what happens next', starting with the last six month's from Richard and Charlotte's point of view and then on past as an extended epilogue, tentatively titled "Meet Darcy's daughter, Amy-Jane' (original isn't it) but I've not quite got enough decided to start writing, but I hope to have enough before too long. Watch this space.**

**Regards,**

**Stephen (Fost)**


	66. Chapter 66: The sequel finally started

For those that have been waiting, the first chapter of the sequel to Meet My Daughter, Amy Jane has been posted. It's imaginatively named: **Meet Darcy's Daughter, Amy Jane. **Find it here:**  
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I know it has been a long time coming - I apologise for that. I also don't know if adding a chapter to a finished story is the correct etiquette in this situation, but I know that I have over 500 followers for this story, and this seems like the easiest way to tell them that I've posted the first chapter of the sequel (sort of - you'll see when you start reading).

Finally, thanks for all the reviews. It has been very humbling to read all your comments.

Regards,

Stephen (Fost)


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